you know I will adore you ('til eternity)
by Tarafina
Summary: "Run all you want, but it won't change anything, Bonnie. It doesn't matter what world we're in, you'll always be my wife." After being sucked up into what they assumed would be oblivion, Damon and Bonnie soon find themselves in an idyllic little town where they're free to find peace. Which is exactly what they have for fifteen years, until reality comes calling to bring them home.
1. starting over

**title**: you know I will adore you ('til eternity)  
><strong>category<strong>: the vampire diaries  
><strong>genre<strong>: friendship/romance/drama/humor  
><strong>ship<strong>: damon/bonnie  
><strong>chapter rating<strong>: teen/pg-13  
><strong>overall rating<strong>: explicit/nc-17  
><strong>word count<strong>: 7,980  
><strong>summary<strong>: "Run all you want, but it won't change anything, Bonnie. It doesn't matter what world we're in, you'll always be my wife." After being sucked up into what they assumed would be oblivion, Damon and Bonnie soon find themselves in an idyllic little town where they're free to find peace. Which is exactly what they have for fifteen years, until reality comes calling to bring them home.

**_you know I will adore you ('til eternity)_**  
>-novel-<p>

_I'll make you happy, baby,  
>just wait and see…<br>For every kiss you give me,  
>I'll give you three…<br>Oh, since the day I saw you,  
>I have been waiting for you.<em>

**I.**

* * *

><p><strong> DAY ONE<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie woke slowly, drawing in a deep breath, a yawn forcing her lips apart. She blinked repeatedly against the reaching arms of the sun, creeping through the parted, white lace curtains. Through half-lidded eyes, she stared for a long moment, her brow furrowed. There was a tree outside the window, dressed with ripe red apples, large enough that the branches seemed to bend under the weight of them. She watched the leaves gently rustled from a faint breeze, a bird walking along the length of one windy branch, chirping cheerfully. Bonnie watched it hop around happily as the dawn invaded her ears. When it finally flew off, wings beating quickly, she sleepily watched the sun crawl up the wood slat wall. She frowned, becoming more alert then, and cast her eyes around in an effort to understand where she was. The room was unfamiliar, despite the fact that she was curled up in a very warm, very comfortable bed. Soft sheets and a heavy blanket weighed down on her, one of her feet sticking out, her toes wiggling against the cool air coming in through the open window.<p>

This wasn't her bedroom. This… wasn't her apartment or her house or any house she could ever remember being in. And, more importantly, the last thing she remembered was standing in the middle of the woods as the Other Side collapsed around her and—

Abruptly, Bonnie's head turned to the left and found none other than Damon Salvatore lying beside her, fast asleep. He was on his back, his head turned in her direction, eyes closed, deceptively innocent. The blanket was tucked only half way up his bare chest, his hair mussed and his skin… She could feel his arm against hers. He was warm. Without thinking, and more than eager to blame it on being confused and only half-awake, she leaned over, pressing her ear down against his chest.

He let out a strangled breath and opened his eyes a little, staring down at her, her hair fanned out over his skin. "Not the wake-up I was expecting, Judgy… You lost?"

"_Shh!_" she demanded.

He pursed his lips at her before opening them to, no doubt, get into an unnecessary argument with her.

She reached up and slapped her hand over his mouth. "Can you feel it?"

He raised an eyebrow at her question, in part, she was sure, because he had no way of answering when she was covering his mouth.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Damon, your heart is _beating_."

His brows during down in confusion before he went completely still, and then his hand was reaching up to his neck, pressing in deep in search of a pulse. When his eyes widened abruptly, she sat up.

"You're… _alive_," she said, staring at him searchingly.

His fingers quickly dug into his mouth, searching around, and then said, "No fangs. I… I'm human."

Bonnie found herself at a loss for words. This made no sense. They died. The Other Side collapsed. So why were they here? Why were they living and breathing and… in bed together? It came out a soft whisper, a question more than a statement: "Grams?" She'd said she'd done something, hadn't she? She'd planned for some backdoor hope at reviving Bonnie, or at least giving her a chance at… _peace_. Anything other than oblivion. But here she was, in a bed, with a pulse and air in her lungs, and the sun slowly creeping over the window sill.

"So, what? This is take two on life?" Damon asked, pushing up to a seated position, his back leaning on two stacked pillows, stuffed up against the wrought iron bars of the bed. "What are your witchy little ancestors playing at? Were they all out of two bedrooms in the afterlife or what?"

"You think _I _know? I'm just as confused as you are," she returned, her eyes darting around thoughtfully. "Do you know where we are? I mean… Do you recognize anything?"

Damon took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he shoved the blanket off his legs and stood from the bed.

Bonnie felt a sudden stab of relief to find he was wearing pants. She wouldn't have put it past him to have lost them in the crossover, nor would she had been surprised if he'd decided to walk around in his birthday suit just to irk her. Walking around the bed, he made his way to the window and shoved his head outside to take a look around. She watched him impatiently, asking, "_Well?_" when he didn't immediately tell her anything.

"Nope. No idea," he replied, leaning back inside. "Little chilly out though. Feels weird."

"Can we focus? We have no idea where we are or why! Shouldn't we… I don't know, _do _something?"

He shrugged. "Like what?"

"I… I don't _know_. I just… This isn't what I was expecting," she sighed, her shoulders slumped.

"Look, we're dead… Kind of." He waved a dismissive hand. "Maybe this is heaven, or maybe it isn't. But until we take a look around, see where we are, we can't really do much."

"So what do you suggest? We just… go outside, walk around the neighborhood?" She raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"Before we woke up, you were ready to blink out of existence entirely, maybe you should just be glad that we didn't." He turned on his heel and started for the door then. "I hope this place has hot water, 'cause I need a shower."

Bonnie stared after him, shaking her head, and then hopped off the bed to follow after him. "_Damon!_"

He glanced at her over his shoulder as he walked down the hall, glancing around and checking the doors he passed. "Linen closet… Storage…? Another linen closet... How many linens do we have…? Ah, bathroom." He flipped the light on and walked toward the shower stall set up in the corner, a claw-foot tub opposite it. He reached inside and turned the tap, leaving his hand behind to test the water. "We sharing, Bon-Bon, or does the afterlife reserve _some_ privacy?"

Putting her hands on her hips, she said, "Fine, but when you're done, we need to sit down and figure some things out."

"What, like a chores list? I'll vacuum, you dust. Preferably in a cute French maid's outfit."

She sighed his name again, heavy with exasperation. "Damon, this is not _normal_."

"What, in our completely abnormal lives, _is _normal?" he wondered, shaking his head. He reached down, hooking his thumbs in the sides of his pajama pants. "Last chance not to see the goods, Bennett…" He smirked then and gave her a wink. "I won't hold it against you if you linger."

Rolling her eyes, Bonnie grabbed the door handle and yanked on it, slamming the door loudly before she stomped off down the hallway, bristling when she heard his amused laughter chase after her. Of all the people to be trapped in the afterlife with… Then again, she wasn't so sure it _was _the afterlife. Maybe Damon had a point. They could take a walk around the neighborhood, see who else had traveled on over. Maybe her Grams was somewhere out there and she could explain what was going on.

Deciding she would need a shower too, she took a walk around the house in hopes of wasting time. She stepped out of the hall and into a kitchen and dining room area, a large fireplace directly across from a quaint little dining table, wearing a small glass jar of slightly wilted flowers and salt and pepper shakers. The kitchen was nice, a long island in the middle, topped with a few appliances. Against the wall was cherry wood countertops with a double sink, stove and fridge. The place was clean, smelling lightly of… was that cinnamon? The cupboards were filled with matching plates, cups, and bowls, silver pots and pans, the fridge was stocked with food, and a Kiss the Cook apron hung from a hook on the wall beside a calendar. There was a pantry, overflowing with everything she could think of, and a small closet with a mop, broom, and dust pan.

Moving through the kitchen, she paused beside the front door, a window set in it to see whoever came knocking. She could hear the faint song of a wind chime and peered outside to the small porch, a creaking swing gently dancing. There were various pots of flowers and plants set all around and the yard was nicely kept, a healthy green and newly mowed. There were stones set in a pathway leading down a small hill to the sidewalk. The driveway had a silver Prius in it, the keys of which hung on a hook by the door, over where a three or four different pairs of men's and women's shoes sat. A coat rack wore a nice autumn jacket she assumed was her own and a black and red checkered work jacket that looked soft to the touch.

She turned on her heel and hugged her arms around herself, chewing on her lip as she continued her curious search. There was a door leading into a small laundry room with a basket half full of clothes the other half already folded up on a counter, waiting to be put away. There was a couch, big enough for two people to comfortably share, end tables on either side of it, and close enough to the fireplace to enjoy its warmth. There was no television, just a radio on the island that looked out on the dining and living room. Bookshelves stood tall on either side of the fireplace, stocked full of every title she could and couldn't recognize, some in languages she couldn't begin to guess at. She ran her hand over a plaid blanket tossed over the back of the couch and wandered around a little more, pausing by the coffee table, where a few of her favorite magazines sat, a few more on natural herbs and homemade crafts. A mason jar full of cinnamon sticks sat in the center, cornered by two unlit candles.

"So, what'd you find?"

She looked up abruptly, briefly surprised to see Damon standing in front of her, rubbing a towel over his head, making his dark hair into messy, wet spikes. He was dressed. Sort of. His shirt was unbuttoned and left open, and his jeans fell rather low on his hips. She refused to let her gaze linger as a bead of water tripped down his skin from his throat and instead met his gaze. "We have food, clean clothes, a car…"

"Running water." He hung his towel around his neck and held onto the ends with his hands. "There's another room in the back too, thought it was storage, but it looks like an office, it's full of boxed up merchandise. Herbal, witchy-looking stuff, so I'm thinking it's yours… There's a few boxes you had special ordered, not even opened yet. Looks like you make the rest of it yourself though." He grinned. "Or maybe you have a few _minions_ to do your bidding."

"You make it sound like there's another me, one that lived this life…" she pointed out.

He shrugged. "Maybe there is. Maybe we're in alternate-Bonnie's world. Where she's a normal human with a candle store and a _hot_ boyfriend."

"Or maybe it's just a suggestion of what I _could _do…" She sighed, rubbing her hands over her arms. "This is weird. Don't you think this is weird?"

"Seen weirder." He stuck his pinkie finger in his ear and wiggled it around in an effort to get water out from inside. "C'mon, you shower, I'll make us something to eat, and we'll figure things out after."

Bonnie sighed, not exactly happy with the idea, but unable to come up with anything better. Walking past him, she made her way down the hall. There was a silk robe hanging on the back of the door, a deep violet color, that she assumed was supposed to be hers. Stripping out of her clothes, she tossed her pajamas into the laundry basket against the wall, and hopped into the shower. If they really were stuck there, she planned on using the bathtub to the fullest, but for now she needed to be quick. She wanted answers and she didn't feel like waiting for them.

By the time she got out of the shower and was dressed, she found the kitchen empty. Panic bubbled up inside her as she called out for Damon, searching around. As much as she'd kicked up a fuss about him being there and not worrying about their circumstances, he was still the only person she knew who was there with her. Since the door leading outside was cracked open, she took it as a sign and stepped outside, shouting a little more frantically than she wanted, "Damon!?"

"Over here!" he answered.

Bonnie turned and found, with some uncertainty, that he was standing in the neighbor's yard, petting their dog and nodding along to something the older man was saying. Bonnie walked over, arms wrapped around herself protectively and offered a forced smile. "Hi…?"

Standing, Damon stepped back and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close to his side. "You remember our neighbor, Mister Bernard…" He flashed his eyes wide at her and grinned back at their neighbor. "We're still working on names. It's been a busy month since we moved in." His hand squeezed her hip and Bonnie jumped a little.

"Yeah, yes! Busy month. So, uh, so many boxes to unpack and… stuff." She winced at her lackluster acting.

"Mister Bernard was just telling me how nice it is to have neighbors again. Our new place was empty for quite a while, no _bites_ while it was on the market… So he's happy to see some new faces on the block."

Bonnie smiled at their neighbor, a man pushing, if not past, his sixties. He looked nice, dressed in khaki shorts and a plaid shirt. He wore his socks like her father did, rolled up as near to his knees as they would stretch.

"Call me Tom," he said, reaching over to shake Bonnie's hand in a friendly fashion. "I was telling your boyfriend here to keep an eye out for your other neighbor, Gladys, she can be a stickler about noise. You two keep it pretty quiet, no rowdy parties so far, but even so. Me and the wife had a barbecue this past summer and she put in a noise complaint. Eight o'clock at night, sun hadn't even set, and she was already kicking up a fuss." He shook his head. "Anyway, I gotta get going. Bette here won't walk herself. It was nice seeing you two again. My wife, Leslie, she keeps mentioning she'd like to invite you over for supper sometimes, but I noticed you get home pretty late. That new shop of yours must be keeping you busy. I've only heard good things."

When she didn't answer, Damon squeezed her hip. "Oh, um, yes, it does, thank you." Bonnie smiled awkwardly.

"We'll get back to you on that offer for dinner, Tom. Just as soon as we've got our schedules figured out," Damon told him, grinning.

"Sounds good. You two have a nice morning." He nodded in farewell before whistling for his dog to follow and started down the path to the sidewalk.

As he turned his back, Bonnie gave Damon's shoulder a shove and then turned on her heel to stalk back toward the house.

Rolling his eyes, he followed after her. As the door closed behind him, he said, "What? You're mad at me? I did what you wanted, I did some recon, checked in with the neighbors. According to good ol' Tom, we're just a normal couple that moved in about a month ago. City slickers." He smirked. "Wanted a break from the busy streets of New York and settle down somewhere nice, so we came out here. You have your own natural remedies store, sells everything from natural vitamins and supplements to the bordering-on-witchy grab bags that any old crackpot can sit in a little pentagram and make their grossly selfish wishes in. And candles. Apparently you make a _ton _of candles. Some for relaxation, stress relief, yadda yadda, and some just because they smell good. Speaking of smells good…" He walked past her into the kitchen then. "How do you feel about pancakes?"

Bonnie felt like her head was going to explode, filled to the brim with knowledge she couldn't quite process.

While she stood, leaning against the island, Damon raided the cupboards and fridge for everything he needed to make pancakes from scratch. Seemingly happy in his surroundings, he started whistling a tune under his breath and grabbed up a burgundy dish towel to toss over his shoulder as he worked.

It was a few minutes before she finally asked, "What do you do?"

"Hm?" he asked, cracking an egg over a large bowl.

"I own this… shop, but what do _you_ do?"

He shrugged. "What? I can't be a trophy boyfriend?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently.

Amused by her, he said, "I'm a handyman or something. I do contract work. Build houses, odd jobs, just me and a hammer… And some guy named Danny, I guess. We carpool."

"You…" She blinked. "_Carpool?_"

"Mmhmm." He nodded, digging around in a few different drawers until he found a whisk and waved it at her triumphantly.

"Damon." She walked toward him, staring at him searchingly. "How are you so okay with this?"

He sighed, looking up from the pancake mix. "What did you think was going to happen when the Other Side collapsed?" he wondered.

She shook her head, her brow furrowed. "I… I don't know. Best case scenario, we'd end up in heaven or… something."

"Right. So. Here we are." He waved his whisk around. "This is _something_."

She opened her mouth to reply, but found herself without anything _to _say.

"It's like I've said… We could've… _Pfft_." He snapped his fingers. "Disappeared into nothing. But here we are. Might not be our idea of heaven, but… hey, Tom seems nice."

She blinked at him. "Yeah…" A frown turned her lips down though.

"Look, I don't know what it is, I don't know how long it'll last. But I'm not a vampire and, I'm guessing, you're not a witch, or the anchor, or _whatever_. We died. We are _dead_. And maybe it was Sheila or maybe it was something else, but we got a house, jobs, and a chance at… something. Something that isn't _nothing_. So let's just… ride it out." He shrugged, ducking his whisk down into the bowl. "Worst case scenario, it's temporary, we get ripped out of here too. So why not just let things happen?"

"Let things happen…?" She shook her head. "Since when do you just go with the flow and not try to change it?"

He sighed. "Maybe I'm tired." He lifted his shoulders high in a shrug. "I got Stefan back. He's alive. That's all I wanted. I knew going into this thing I might not walk away. I knew the chances of me walking away, unscathed, were small. It's over. This is where I am. Maybe in a few days or a week or whatever, that won't be enough and we'll start tracking down leads and see what we can do about changing it. But for right now…" He raised an eyebrow. "I wanna eat a pancake."

She stared at him and gave a soft sigh.

"What about you, _Bon-Bon?_" He grinned teasingly. "You wanna pancake?"

Despite herself, she gave him a smile. "Better be the best pancake I've ever had in the afterlife, Salvatore."

He smirked then, chuckling under his breath. "Coming right up."

* * *

><p><strong> DAY THREE<strong>

* * *

><p>"You know, the gentlemanly thing to do would be to give me the bed... The couch is comfortable. Or the floor…"<p>

Damon readjusted the pillows under his head and arched an eyebrow at her. "If it's so comfortable, why don't _you _sleep on it."

Bonnie pursed her lips at him and flopped backwards on the bed, tucking an arm behind her head. "Fine, so it's not comfortable long term. But maybe we should get another bed or something, put it in the office…"

"Because you have so much room in the office," he mocked.

Turning onto her side, she glared at him. "Instead of shooting down my ideas, you could try offering some of your own!"

"Here's an idea," he said, mock-cheerfully. "_Go to sleep_." With that, he closed his eyes, playing at rest.

Bonnie glared at him a while longer, but eventually turned back over. "We're talking about this in the morning," she warned him.

"It's a bed, Bennett. You stay on your side, I'll stay on mine. If something about that changes, _then _we'll talk."

She pursed her lips. "Sounds a lot like you want to keep sharing, Damon."

"I've had worse bed partners," he muttered. "Not by a lot. But worse all the same."

"Is this the part where I swoon?" she snarked.

"Preferably it's where you shut up and go to sleep."

Bonnie stayed quiet for all of six seconds before rolling over onto her side. "I don't get it. You used to want as much space as humanly possible between us. So what's the difference now?"

Groaning irritably, Damon rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "You're not going to stop, are you?" He laughed humorlessly. "Of course not. You know, I'm beginning to think this is _actually _hell."

"You want hell, I can _give _you hell," she warned.

Sighing, long and loud, he shook his head and, in an uncharacteristically honest moment, admitted, "It's comforting, all right?"

She blinked. "What?"

"I find it comforting that you're there. I go to sleep, you're there. I wake up, you're there. You're the only familiar thing I have here. I'm sure there's a ton of people we'd both rather be sleeping beside, but this is it. It's just us. So yes, I want to keep sharing the bed, because as much as we'd like it to be different, we're all we've got." He smirked at her, but there was no malice there.

Bonnie stared at him a long moment, her shoulders slowly loosening up. She was sure she would regret it later, there was no doubt he would get on her nerves again, and soon. But in that moment, she understood what he meant, and she couldn't help but agree. When she woke in the mornings, there was a stab of relief to find him still there. The world they were in was normal, so far as she could tell, but it was still strange, in the way things were when they weren't familiar. She wasn't quite sure how they got there, or how long it would last, but she was glad that she wasn't alone. So maybe he wasn't who she wanted to be falling asleep beside or waking up next to, but he would do. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nodded and then turned over, facing the window. "For now… Temporarily… Okay."

He didn't say anything, but she knew he heard her.

Eventually, when they weren't so desperate for any kind of familiarity, then they would figure it out. If that meant getting separate places or just separate rooms, then so be it. Until then, maybe having him right there wasn't the worst. At least he didn't snore.

"For the record, you talk in your sleep, so… if anyone's getting the raw deal here, it's me."

Never mind. Bonnie grabbed her pillow out from beneath her head and socked him in the face with it. "Shut up," she told him before tucking her pillow back under head. "And go to sleep before I change my mind."

There was a pause then before, amusement clear in his voice, he answered, "Yes, dear."

* * *

><p><strong> DAY FIVE<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon was not a fan of early mornings. He didn't mind them so much before, when a bag of blood could wipe away any lingering exhaustion, but these days, he was just as susceptible to sleep as any human, and a bag of blood wouldn't do him any favors. Contrary to popular belief, or at least Bonnie's, he didn't mind work. He even liked it on some level, being useful, having no serious worries hanging over his head, it was oddly peaceful. It was just the waking up in the morning part he didn't like so much. Having a routine helped; a quick shower and making breakfast usually put him in a pretty good mood. Especially if whatever he made for breakfast ticked Bonnie off. Wasn't his fault if she was so easy to annoy, or that he enjoyed it so much.<p>

Regardless, after walking down the path to the waiting truck at the curb, he let out a long yawn and pulled the door open. There was no time for him to greet Danny before his co-worker said, "So these two fish are in a tank, right? First fish looks at the other and says, 'How do you drive this thing?'" With a snort, he slapped his hand down on the steering wheel, shaking his head with amusement.

Damon blinked at him, let out a long-suffering sigh, and took a seat in the truck, closing the door behind him. "That might be your worst one yet."

"You say that every day," Danny dismissed cheerfully.

"And every day your jokes get worse."

"Part of my charm, I guess." He pulled the truck out onto the road and started for work. It was quiet for all of thirty seconds, before he said, "You want to hear a pizza joke?" Before Damon could reply that no, he seriously did not, Danny jumped ahead to say, "Nah, never mind, it's super cheesy."

Hell. He was definitely in hell. And yet… His mouth ticked up at the corner. Raising an eyebrow, he turned to Danny, "How do you kill a vegetarian vampire?"

Danny grinned. "How?"

"You _steak _it in the heart."

If there was one good thing about Danny, it was that he always laughed at Damon's jokes. Even the terrible ones. Even the ones he regretted making, which he currently did, because that was terrible.

* * *

><p><strong> ONE WEEK<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>Damon!<em>"

He winced at the shrill level of her voice and leaned over from the island to peer down the hallway. "Yes, honey?" he called out mockingly.

Stomping out of the bathroom, she glared at him, her eyes narrowed and her mouth pinched. "You _left _the toilet seat up… _Again_."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Whoops."

Bonnie's hand curled up into a fist. "Tell me, how long have you and Elena been sharing space, huh? In all that time did she just _not _house train you?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Common mistake. I'll work on it."

Bonnie huffed a breath out through her clenched teeth.

He tipped his head knowingly. "You're trying to make my brain pop, aren't you?" He snapped his fingers. "Too bad your witchy juju didn't transfer over here with you, huh?"

Stomping her foot, she whirled around and made her way back to the bedroom.

"Love you too, Bon-Bon!" he called after her, before chuckling to himself and returning his attention to the food in front of him. He was ninety percent sure that vampcakes weren't going to win him any favors, but he rather liked her all worked up anyway.

* * *

><p><strong> TWO WEEKS<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie sat in the corner of the couch, her legs up under her and a magazine in her lap. As she turned the page, she answered, "No."<p>

Damon rolled his eyes. "What do you mean _no?_ It's the only car we have."

"It's the only car _I _have. _You _carpool," she replied.

"To _work_!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with incredulity. "I'm not going to work, I'm going to the _store_. To get food for my lunch tomorrow. _For work_."

She shrugged. "Should've thought of that when I was going grocery shopping. I asked you if you wanted something."

He pursed his lips at her. "_No_… you said 'I'm going shopping, don't do anything stupid.'"

She smirked up at him then, flipping a page in her magazine. "It was _implied_."

Damon sighed. "I'll be a half hour, tops. I'm not going to crash your car." Mockingly, he added, "I know I only have a _century_'s worth of driving experience under my belt, but I think I can manage."

Bonnie shook her head. "No dice."

"_Fine_." He scowled at her as he sat on the coffee table, staring at her thoughtfully, before he finally offered an insincere smile. "Bonnie, plague of my current existence, will you _please _drive me to the grocery store…" He batted his eyes at her dramatically.

She stared at him a long moment, happy to make him wait, and then offered a half-smile. "Sure, Damon, bane of my _every _existence, I'd be happy to." Standing from the couch, she moved toward the front door, slipping on a comfortable pair of sandals. "Besides, we both know you always get the wrong yogurt and then complain about it non-stop anyway."

He frowned after her, following her out the door. "The packaging is the same. It's deceptive."

"Uh-huh." Amused, she twirled her keys around her finger and walked to the car.

"And I noticed you didn't pick up whipped cream, which I need, for—"

"You're not making pancakes," she told him.

"_Vamp_cakes," he corrected, smugly. "And it's not my fault if you have no sense of humor."

Bonnie sighed, a headache forming at her temples. "It wasn't funny the first time, it's not funny now."

Damon put his seat belt on and clapped his hands. "Fine. I'll make waffles."

"Will there be _fangs _on these waffles?"

"You know, for a woman who wakes up to a freshly made breakfast every morning, you're being awfully _picky_…"

Pulling out of the driveway, she said, "Maybe it's the cook."

"_Rude_."

Her mouth twitched with a smile. At least until he started fiddling with the radio. Briefly, she wondered if there was a way to block the classic rock station. Then again, his air-guitaring _could_ just be worth it…

* * *

><p><strong> ONE MONTH<strong>

* * *

><p>Her shop was something of a Godsend. While she thought she'd be overwhelmed, as soon as she stepped inside, everything felt right in her world. The old wood shelves were, according to one of her employees, built by Damon himself. Though she had no proof of that, seeing as it must have happened before they <em>appeared<em>. The previous Damon and Bonnie (if there even was such a thing, because she was still pretty sure it was just a pre-made world with a pre-built life rather than real people they'd replaced), had been together nearly three years. As long as they had actually known each other. Naomi, who worked at the shop five days a week and occasionally on weekends, was fifteen years Bonnie's senior, with two children, but treated Bonnie with the deference an employer and friend deserved. Naomi seemed to love working for and with Bonnie and took great pride in being there as soon as the doors opened and until they closed.

Each area of the store was sectioned off with homemade wood signs that hung on thin silver chains from the ceiling. There was remedies for anything from headaches to the common flu, foot odor to mild pain, all tucked against one wall. Vitamins and supplements filled a six-shelf cabinet beside it, which she had specially shipped in every few weeks. The candles were their best sellers; she'd never seen so many scents before. Naomi mentioned that they often got together on the weekends and made the candles together, with much of the stock taking up space in Bonnie's office at home. In another aisle, there were lotions, body sprays, lip balms, deodorants, shampoos and conditioners, all of which were organic. And finally, there was a small stand near the front that sold homemade jams and jellies, made by a local woman that delivered to Bonnie every Sunday afternoon. After three months, Bonnie was happy to see that her store ran smoothly, welcoming a nice crowd each day. They were open Monday through Friday and closed every afternoon at five-thirty, which was about the time Damon showed up, dropped off by Danny to join her on the ride home.

From 9 am to 5:30 pm, Bonnie found herself in a space that she had grown to consider _hers_. The house was perfect; it was beautiful and comfortable and homey. She wouldn't have picked Damon to be her roommate, but it could be worse. Here, though, she felt like she was in her element. Some of the herbs were hand-picked and Bonnie was happy to traipse around the woods and find them with either Naomi or her much younger employee, Kayla. A girl still in high school with a special affection for all things wiccan. During the week, the employees cycled through on which days and shifts they worked, but Bonnie was always there. She did her own inventory and kept a record of sales that she went over each night. The store brought in a comfortable amount of money, it seemed most of the people in town were happy to look for a natural remedy instead of what the pharmacy had to offer. She wondered, of course, if that was just a construct of this world, that they would make a little more than enough to maintain that comfortable life. It seemed very little ever really went wrong in town, the complete opposite of Mystic Falls. In many ways, Bonnie appreciated that. She never felt the overwhelming urge to find a way to help everyone. Instead, she directed people to what was on the shelves, she told them how to relieve stress or pain and what ointment would do what when put where.

It was calming and easy and, as soon as she stepped through the doors, she felt a wave of relief ease over her. It smelled like honey and sage, the old wood floors stained to a nice shine, the shelves all hand crafted and the labels all of her own making. She imagined Grams would love it. She would happily spend her days there with Bonnie, sipping sweet tea as she gossiped about what was going on around town and asked her how things were in her life. She missed her Grams. She missed a lot of people, but none more than her Grams. And she wondered, more often than not, if she was proud of her, happy for her, if she'd given her this town and this store as her way of making up for all that she'd given up or lost. It wasn't perfect, not really. If it was, she would have Caroline and Elena, Matt and Jeremy, and even Tyler there with her. But it was, in many ways, a peaceful life, one that she probably never would have had if she'd lived. So for that, she was grateful.

The bell rung above the door and Bonnie grinned, happily greeting her next customer.

* * *

><p><strong> THREE MONTHS<strong>

* * *

><p>"Where are <em>you <em>going?" she asked, looking up as he walked through the living room, leather jacket on. "And why do you smell so good?"

Damon smirked back at her. "Thank you for noticing. Although, for the record, I _always _smell good."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and stood from the couch, readjusting her shirt as it rode up her sides. "Damon…"

"Relax, _mom_, I'm going to Sadie's Pub. Danny asked me if I wanted to get a drink, and since _somebody _never leaves the house to do anything _fun_…"

"I _do _things," she argued, frowning.

"Yeah, Bonnie, you work." He pulled his boots on as he watched her chew on her lip, leaning against the side of the couch. With a sigh, he said, "Didn't Naomi ask you if you wanna go bowling tonight?"

"Yeah, but…" She trailed off, her brow furrowed.

"So go." He reached back and grabbed her jacket off the coat rack, holding it out for her. "Go. Have fun. Try smiling…" He tapped her nose and told her, mock-sternly, "Make friends, not frowns."

Her lips twitched and she glanced away for a moment. "I'm not very good… at bowling."

"Doesn't matter if you're good. You just gotta out-bowl the other guy." Circling her, he put her jacket over her shoulders and left his hands there, squeezing lightly. "Worse comes to worst, _cheat_. It's what I do."

Bonnie shook her head, smiling despite herself, and tucked her arms through the sleeves of her jacket. "Thank you. _I think_."

A honk outside alerted them Danny was there to pick him up then. Circling around her, Damon gave her a wink as he walked to the door. "Have fun tonight," he said, before he walked outside to meet his friend.

She watched him go for a moment, keenly aware that this was a step. A somewhat monumental step toward moving on, moving _forward_. She didn't like to think Damon was right, _ever_, but he had a point. She went to work and she came home; she'd become somewhat of a hermit. And maybe that was because she missed her friends, her _real _friends, or maybe it was because she was unwilling to admit that things were different and they might just _stay_ that way. But the time for burying her head in the sand was up. Maybe this wouldn't last, this little idyllic town with its perfect life all laid out for them. And maybe it would. Either way, she was going bowling. Because she _did _deserve a night off. She rarely got those, alive or dead. It was time to change that.

* * *

><p><strong>SIX MONTHS<strong>

* * *

><p>To say Bonnie and Damon got along famously would be a bold-faced lie. They fought. Regularly. Often about stupid, insignificant things. It was just in their nature. And, to be honest, she was almost completely sure that half the time he disagreed with her just for fun, not because he sincerely disagreed, and probably because he liked driving her nuts. There were some days that she honestly wished she'd died with just about <em>anybody <em>else. But, and she was loathe to admit it, more often than not, she was actually glad it was Damon that transferred over to this world with her. So far, from scouring the small town they lived in, she couldn't find anyone else she knew. When they tried calling anybody back home, either the number didn't exist or somebody they didn't know picked up. This world was completely disconnected from theirs, and Bonnie had no idea what to make of that. So, she did what Damon did, she went with the flow.

They had built up a sort of schedule over the time they'd been there. They were getting comfortable, and she wasn't sure what to make of that. She still missed home like a giant, gaping hole in her chest, but there were some days that she didn't even think of it, didn't think of the fact that the world they were in wasn't _theirs_. She opened her store with a smile, she greeted customers, learned their names and their stories, and she went home each night, sharing dinner with Damon, doing the dishes before they sat on the couch, each reading a book or a magazine as they relaxed. And that clawing panic, that flinch she expected whenever the phone rang or someone knocked at the door, expecting the worst, expecting Klaus or doppelgangers or any level of evil to come wreak havoc, began to dwindle as nothing but normal, average life started to take over.

She went to sleep each night, with Damon beside her, hogging half the bed, and stopped wondering if tomorrow would be different.

But some nights, the nostalgia, the homesickness, swept her up, and she lost herself in wondering if they missed her, if they were trying to get them back, if they'd simply accepted they were gone and had moved on. She wasn't sure which she wanted.

In the darkness of their bedroom, she couldn't help herself from whispering. She knew he was awake; she could always tell when he'd fallen asleep. He didn't snore, but his body relaxed incrementally until, finally, his whole weight seemed to sink into the bed, a giant, unmoveable rock beside her. It was oddly comforting; he was steady, he was familiar, he was always there. "I miss home," she said, her voice so quiet she was sure he couldn't hear her, despite the lack of space between them.

He didn't answer right away, and she wondered if he even would. But then, quiet as could be, he said, "Me too."

That was new. Usually he pretended he didn't care, that he'd completely and totally accepted that home was gone. It annoyed her most of the time, that he was so blasé about everything. Maybe it was the darkness that let him admit it, that let him be honest with her.

She turned over onto her side, her cheek atop one of her hands. "You don't look it. You seem… content."

He mimicked her, turning over to face her, and gave a heavy sigh. "What can I say, I've gotten good at adapting to things like this over the years."

Her eyes washed over his face for a moment, faintly lit by a shaft of moonlight. "What do you miss the most?" She raised a finger. "And don't say sex."

His mouth ticked up at the corner. "Mostly bourbon."

"You can get bourbon here." Now that she thought about it, however, he never seemed to. Wine, beer, sure, but never his favorite drink.

"Sure, just not with Ric or Stefan there to drink it with me…" His mouth pressed into a firm line. "I miss _them_. All of them. Even Little Gilbert, as annoying as he usuallyis…"

Her eyes fell for a moment, teeth digging into her lip.

"I know I'm going to regret this, but… what's wrong?" he wondered.

She offered a sad smile as her eyes burned with tears. "I want them to be happy." She let out a watery laugh. "I want them to move on and be okay and, I don't know, hopefully get out of Mystic Falls or away from whatever's always chasing them. I just— I don't— It's selfish, I know it is, but I don't want them to forget me." Her mouth wobbled. "I miss them, I'm always going to miss them, and I don't know _where _we are or how long we'll be here or if one day, I'll turn around and Caroline will be walking down the street but she won't know who I am. I don't know any of that. But I remember what Elena's hugs feel like and I remember how much Caroline always made me laugh and I remember how Jeremy smells, and I just… I don't want to forget that, I never do. I just want them to remember me too."

He reached for her, not quite hesitantly, but slowly all the same, and he brushed his hand down the side of her face, his knuckles dragging down her cheek before his fingers pushed her hair back. He rubbed his thumb under her eye to swipe at a stray tear and she watched a muscle tick in his cheek as he ground his teeth a little. "They're not going to forget you." She opened her mouth, but he wouldn't give her a chance to argue. "I've been around a long time. The people that really matter, the people you love, you don't forget them. You still miss them, twenty, thirty, a hundred years later, you just… you get used to missing them. And eventually it doesn't hurt as much not to have them right there beside you. But you don't forget. Stefan, Caroline, Elena, they'll, hopefully, outlive us by… centuries. And even then, they're gonna remember you just like you do them." He swallowed tightly and shook his head. "You're not the forgettable type."

Bonnie gazed up at him, taking his words to heart. He could just be saying it to get her to stop crying, but if that were the case, he probably would've gone a much more sarcastic route. Maybe it was all the time they were spending together or maybe it was something else. But in order to bring a little more levity back, she dried her tears and said, "You're going soft over here, Damon. Not one snarky insult in there at all."

His mouth ticked up. "I'm human now, which means I can use the 'tired as hell' card." He turned over onto his back and readjusted his head as he tucked his arm behind it. "You good?"

"Yeah." She followed his example and turned back over, staring up at the ceiling. "You know… If you wanted to leave… If you wanted to get your own apartment or something, have space, I wouldn't blame you."

He was quiet for a long moment before he asked, "You trying to get rid of me?"

"No," she answered sincerely. "It's just… It's like you said. We might be here for…_ever_. And if we are, if this is what the afterlife is going to be like, I… I won't hold it against you if you wanted to see what it had to offer." She sighed, closing her eyes. "I'm just… I know I just broke down on your shoulder and I know I kind of rely on you to be my normality here, because you're the only one who knows what this all feels like, who remembers them, who _misses _them, but… I don't want you to feel obligated to stay, you know? I… You don't owe me anything."

He hummed non-committally and, after a few tense seconds told her, "I'm not looking to trade in our cozy setup for a bachelor pad anytime soon, if that's what you're hinting at… I'm good where I am. So if you want out, say the word, but until then…"

She nodded slightly and then, in a soft but sincere whisper, said, "I'm good too."

He nodded. "Good."

A few minutes passed then, until the words built up in her throat to a degree that couldn't be ignored. "Damon?"

"Hm?"

"You're not forgettable either… You know that right?"

When he didn't answer, not even with a sarcastic quip, she thought about pursuing it, but, as time passed, she wasn't quite sure what to say or how to comfort him. So she bit the inside of her cheek and focused on the pain there instead.

Nothing more was said and Bonnie closed her eyes, waiting, as she did most nights, to feel his body slowly become more and more relaxed. When she knew he was asleep, she turned her head to look at him. They didn't always get along, he took extra-long showers just to annoy her; he always made whip cream faces on her pancakes, often with fangs; he called her every annoying pet name in the book just because he knew it bugged her; he always left the toothpaste cap off; he used up her shampoo and never replaced it; his taste in music was questionable; he very rarely recognized the boundaries of personal space; and he was arrogant, sarcastic, and borderline crazy at times. _But_… she was glad she had him. He might not always be her favorite person, but he definitely had his moments.

[**Next**: Chapter Two.]

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>: _So this was originally a oneshot, but it became so long I had to break it up into chapters. I wanted to establish a friendship between them before it leaks into romance and before they're, eventually, returned to 'life' with their friends and family. Also, their banter is really fun to write, so it was actually entertaining to delve into the early days of their time 'away.' I hope you enjoyed this and I plan to have the next chapter up soon. I did add a few nods to what was going on in the show, but since I started this before season six began, I didn't want to change it all to fit in with canon._

_Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review, especially since this is my first time writing Bamon, as I"m usually a Steroline writer. _

**- Lee | Fina **


	2. new and old

**title**: you know I will adore you ('til eternity)  
><strong>category<strong>: the vampire diaries  
><strong>genre<strong>: friendship/romance/drama/humor  
><strong>ship<strong>: damon/bonnie  
><strong>rating<strong>: explicit/nc-17  
><strong>word count<strong>: 7,524  
><strong>summary<strong>: "Run all you want, but it won't change anything, Bonnie. It doesn't matter what world we're in, you'll always be my wife." After being sucked up into what they assumed would be oblivion, Damon and Bonnie soon find themselves in an idyllic little town where they're free to find peace. Which is exactly what they have for fifteen years, until reality comes calling to bring them home.

**_you know I will adore you ('til eternity)_**  
>-novel-<p>

**II.**

* * *

><p><strong>EIGHT MONTHS<strong>

* * *

><p>'<em>Curiosity killed the cat,<em>' was one of her father's favorite sayings.

'_But satisfaction brought it back_,' echoed in her mind, in a distinctly Damon-like voice.

That was why Bonnie was sitting in her car, idling just outside of the 'Welcome' sign that stood on the edge of town, where the highway led in anyone who thought to enter. Only, no one ever did. It was something she picked up on a few weeks back. Nobody new every seemed to visit; everybody knew each other, greeting one another by name, waving as they passed each other in the streets. That wasn't so unusual; she'd grown up in Mystic Falls, where everybody was familiar with each other. But they still had traffic, people passing through town for gas or visiting for a weekend or during the summer months. It wasn't like that here. And, considering she was fairly sure that this was an in-between world of some kind, a hold over between life and the oblivion, she wondered just how far it reached. Was the town isolated, or did it reach beyond the city limits? Could she travel? Take a plane somewhere? Or were they confined to this one small town?

It would be so easy. Just drive forward, see what else was out there, but instead, she continued to idle.

It was easy to forget that the world around her might not be real. Easy to get caught up in the normality of it all. There were seasons here, holidays that felt so realistic she could almost forget that none of it was real. Were the people that worked for her the phantoms of people who had died in the real world? Did they, like she and Damon, have any idea they were gone? That this was just a shadow of the world they'd left. She wouldn't know it from talking to them. They all seemed to accept this world as their own, as if they'd been there all their lives.

Sometimes she wished she could forget. She wished she could get lost in this world and let it become reality. She wished she could stop worrying about her friends back home; if they were okay, if one day she might turn around and see them walking down the street, unaware of who she was, just another face to add to the crowd. Sometimes she would see a flash of blonde hair or she would hear a laugh that sounded _so _like Elena's and she would whirl around, searching for them, only to find unfamiliar faces passing her by.

But she couldn't forget. She had to know.

With a shaking hand, she reached out and put her car into drive. Slowly, she pressed her foot down on the accelerator and drove forward, past the sign. She watched, brow furrowed, as the trees on either side began to blur, the road becoming a mottled gray color, like running paint. And then, in a blink, it was gone. Her car was idling once more, this time facing the town, on the other side of the 'Welcome' sign again. So that solved it then, there was no leaving, no life outside of this small town. They were confined to this area, no chance of exploring or seeing the rest of the world.

She should have been disappointed. And, in one way, she was. She wanted to explore. She wanted to have the option of packing up and leaving whenever she wanted, of leaving Small Town USA and instead going to see what the rest of the world had to offer. She'd never had the chance before, when she was alive, so this could have been her chance. But it wasn't. Because she died. She sacrificed herself for everybody else. Over and over and over again. And this is what it got her.

Bonnie smiled, letting out a hysterical little giggle, and then she dropped her face, forehead falling to her hands on the steering wheel, and she cried. She cried for the life she'd lost and the days she wished she'd been selfish enough to want a real future, all her own. She cried for the mornings she woke up happy that she wouldn't have to fight some new bad guy, that she wouldn't have to drain herself dry trying to keep her friends alive. She cried for her Grams' and her dad and even her mother. She cried and cried, until she was hoarse and tired and relieved. So damn relieved.

This was her life now. There was no changing it. No running from it. She had her store and her home and Damon. And she didn't know how long it would last, if one day she might just get ripped out of this world too, but for now, it was hers, and she was free and normal. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it was safe and quiet and it had its moments; its fun, carefree, happy moments. She could live with that. For now.

* * *

><p><strong> TEN MONTHS<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon was whistling as he walked into the house and tipped his sunglasses down his nose as he found a woman, equally beautiful, but not nearly as smart-alecky as Bonnie, standing in his kitchen. "Naomi," he greeted, shrugging his jacket off and looping his sunglasses in the collar of his shirt. "Lemme guess, you've finally taken me up on my offer to elope."<p>

Grinning at him from where she stood stirring a pot of _heavenly_ smelling spaghetti sauce, Naomi shook her head. "Sadly, _for you_, I swore off marriage a long time ago. Don't let that stop you from asking though, I _do _like the ego boost."

Damon held a hand to his heart. "All my dreams, dead and buried, right here." He kicked his shoes off and made his way into the kitchen. "What am I supposed to look forward to now, huh? Who could live up to the Naomi-shaped hole in my heart?"

"Well, if she ever gets her head out of her work, I think Bonnie might be able to help you with that."

Stealing a slice of cheese off of a plate on the island counter, Damon popped it in his mouth and took a long look down the hallway, humming disapprovingly. "She's still working? She promised she was going to quit at noon and spend some time relaxing..."

"Oh, she did, for about an hour." Naomi frowned. "Then she invited me over and, one thing led to another, and—"

"Don't tell me…" He put his hands together in the prayer position. "Experimental lesbian kiss."

Naomi rolled her eyes at him. "You wish," she muttered, waving a dish towel at him. "We started talking about work and she got distracted, said she needed to recheck the stock. _I _went ahead and started dinner. She already picked everything up anyway. I know she said she was going to make you dinner tonight, but once she gets on a work tear, there's no talking her out of it," she sighed.

Damon nodded, turning on his heel and starting toward the hall. "You're staying for dinner, right?"

Shaking her head, Naomi tapped the wooden spoon against the side of the pot. "'Fraid not, handsome. I've got two hungry kids that should be home any minute now… Tell your girlfriend she owes me girl time that doesn't involve work." Undoing the apron from her waist, she tossed it to the counter and started for the coat rack by the front door. "Have a good night, Damon."

"You too. And hey…" He grinned. "You ever change your mind about marriage, you know where to find me."

She scoffed. "Honey, you couldn't handle me on your best day." With a bit of a hair flip, she turned and walked out the door, an extra swing in her hips.

Smirking, Damon returned to his task, making his way down the hall to the office where Bonnie spent entirely too much of her time. He leaned against the doorjamb and knocked his knuckles against the wall. "You about done in here? Your afterlife-bff just took off… She made what smells like a _really _awesome spaghetti sauce, too."

"Naomi left?" Bonnie looked up from where she was surrounded by various bottles. "I didn't get a chance to talk to her about the new batch of oils we got in."

"Oils?" He raised a curious eyebrow. "Like the fun kind?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes as she pushed up from the floor and gave her legs a shake from sitting for so long. "Yes, Damon, I like to keep the kinky massage oils right next to the foot odor powder." She walked past him into the hall and started toward the kitchen.

Damon followed after her, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed how amazing her legs looked in the shorts she was wearing. "You know, I hear it's only good business to test out your own product from time to time…" He leered at her playfully. "Whattya say, Bon-Bon, want me to put my hands to work on your tense back?"

She scoffed. "Somehow I highly doubt you'd stick to just my back."

"I can't be held responsible for where else you hold tension." He shrugged. "I'm just here to help. Your friendly, neighborhood, _handyman_…"

Bonnie's mouth twitched with amusement. "Maybe some other time," she said, making her way to the pot simmering away. "Did Naomi say anything else before she left?" Before he could answer, she qualified, "That _didn't _have to do with you _relieving _my stress, her turning down your latest marriage proposal, or anything in that general ballpark."

He hummed, leaning a hip against the counter. "She said you needed to hang out again soon, preferably somewhere you wouldn't be distracted with _work_." He raised his eyebrows. "Thought we talked about you taking today off."

"_No_… I said I'd take a _break_. I didn't say I'd take the _whole _day off," she corrected, scooping out a taste-test of the sauce and licking her lips before she held the spoon out for him.

He leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the spoon, slurping up the sauce and nodding approvingly.

Bonnie reached up to wipe at the corner of his mouth absently and licked the remaining sauce off her thumb. "There's too much to do. I just got in new merchandise and I'm not _exactly _sure where I want it to go… It's either clear out some of the old stuff or put in a new section, which…" She sighed, shaking her head. "I don't exactly have time for."

Damon shrugged. "I've got time."

She looked over at him, brow furrowed. "I know Peter mentioned you built the shelves originally, but that was the _other _you…"

"Other me, this me, doesn't change anything. You want shelves, I can build 'em." He pushed off the counter and made his way to the pantry, digging out the spaghetti noodles. "Just say the word and I'll get started building."

Bonnie stared at him a long moment as he walked back toward her. "Just my friendly, neighborhood, handyman, huh?"

He grinned down at her and tapped her nose with the spaghetti noodle box. "Exactly."

After a moment, she nodded. "All right, if you think you're up to it…"

"Definitely." He dug out a pot and filled it with water before joining her by the stove. "On one condition."

"Here we go..." she muttered under her breath.

"Take tomorrow off."

She blinked up at him. "What?"

"Take tomorrow _off_. Completely. Go do something fun, take Naomi with you, whatever, just get your head off of work for a while." He, rather dramatically, hip checked her out of the way to get their spaghetti noodles going then and Bonnie frowned, leaning back against the counter, her arms crossed.

"That's it?"

"Mmhmm." He dusted his hands off and turned to look at her. "No work, no stopping by the shop, no going over inventory, none of it. Just a normal, relaxing day."

She tipped her head thoughtfully, staring up at him, and then, after taking a deep breath, she said, "Okay."

His mouth turned up at the corner. "Yeah?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Deal." She held a hand out for him to shake.

He let out a snort of a laugh, but he shook her hand all the same. Before she could let it go, he gave her a little twirl and pulled her into his side. "Now, what do you say you open a bottle of wine?"

"On it."

As she walked off, Damon smirked to himself, more than a little satisfied with the outcome. When he became so focused on making sure Bonnie didn't work herself to death, he had no idea, but reminding her to live a little was just up his alley.

* * *

><p><strong> ELEVEN MONTHS<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie forgot sometimes, how charming Damon could be, how <em>human<em> he was. And he was, more than anything else. Here, in this world, he was flesh and blood. If she were to press her ear to his chest, she would hear the steady thump of his heart, long ago questioned to have ever existed. It was different now. Everything was different now. But they had adapted. They lived their lives and relied on each other and worked jobs they happened to really enjoy.

Leaving Damon to entertain her modest employee group —there were only five of them in total— Bonnie found herself wandering her store, moving down the aisles to make sure all the candles had their ribbons and labels facing front. She could spend hours here, lost in her inventory, making sure everything was just the way she wanted it. Time was lost to her, drifting away, absolute calm engulfing her as she paused to sniff a few candles she and Naomi had put out just that morning. The warm scent of pumpkin spice filled her senses. Thanksgiving was just around the corner and these ones in particular, along with mint and candy cane, were selling better than the rest. Her smile quickly dimmed, her lips turning down instead.

"Someone's _mopey_…"

She let out a sigh as his voice interrupted her thoughts and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Have they left?"

"Naomi said she had to get home to her kids, and since she carpooled with Kayla and Brandon, they went with her. Peter offered to close up, but I figured you'd stick around a while longer anyway, so he and Annette left." He walked toward her, his head cocked curiously and his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. "What's on your mind? You've been _extra_ introspective today…"

She stared at him a moment, watching as he plucked a candle up from the shelf and gave it a sniff. Cinnamon. It was his favorite. She knew because they had a large collection at home and he always chose the cinnamon to light up. Nowadays, she found herself linking the scent with him. Cinnamon, leather, and red wine. She wondered if the cinnamon scent reminded him of anything in particular or if it was just a nice nod to the season. Even Damon could get sentimental.

"Just feels strange. Thanksgiving is one of those seasons you're supposed to spend with everyone who means something to you. Makes me thinks of Grams… Big family dinners, lots of homemade food, Caroline overdoing it with decorations…" She smiled sadly. "I miss them."

He hummed, nodding. "Well, I can't guarantee a family dinner, but we can do something, make our own traditions. I'm not a crafts person…" His lip curled a little, and she could only imagine his frustration as he was forced to make a table display, which only made her grin in amusement. "But I can handle the cooking if you want to do the rest."

"Yeah? Turkey with all the fixings?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure… Cranberry sauce, stuffing, candied yams, you name it, Bennett, and I can cook it." He tapped her nose with the end of his finger in a gesture that was becoming more and more affectionate over time. He grinned when she slapped his hand away and put the cinnamon candle back on the shelf. "You ready to go home or you wanna stay here? 'Cause I'm getting a headache from all the candle fumes."

"We can go." She put her own candle back, readjusting it so it was facing forward, and then moved out of the aisle, walking to the back office while Damon shut off the lights and checked the front door to make sure it was locked. The crime rate in their sleepy little town was basically non-existent, but that didn't stop him from being cautious. When he returned, she leaned into his hands as he placed her hand-knit shawl, a gift from Naomi, over her shoulders and gathered up her sales and inventory books. He took them from her hands and carried them under one arm as they left out the back door. She locked it up behind them before following him to their car.

"I picked up a few things for dinner tonight…" he told her as he pulled out of the parking lot. "A nice red wine to go with our pasta and some French bread."

Bonnie felt her mouth turn up faintly and let her head fall to one side as she watched him, his attention on the road until he felt the weight of her gaze. He turned toward her, a brow raised and a warm smile pulling at his mouth. "What?" he asked, a faint laugh in his voice.

She stared at him thoughtfully. "You like this, don't you?"

His eyes fell for a moment before he turned them back to the road. "What's not to like, huh? I'm alive, there's no crazy supernatural jerk out to kill us… everything's easy. Normal." He shrugged. "Boring sometimes, sure, but it could be worse…"

Bonnie hummed, nodding to herself, and then ran her hands over the lines of the books in her lap.

Damon, uncomfortable with the thoughtful silence, turned on the radio, twisting and turning the knob until he found something he liked; something loud enough to drown out the honesty of his words. Because he did like it. She knew he did. He might miss home, miss everybody they left behind, but he liked how normal his life was. He liked waking up at the crack of dawn and sharing breakfast with her before the honk of a horn told him Danny was there to carpool to work. He liked popping a loud kiss on her cheek before he left, calling out, "Have a good day, honey!" in a cheesy, exaggerated voice. He liked that he had a routine and someone to come home to and that his day wouldn't be interrupted by the next big problem. He was content. And maybe there was a little guilt in that, knowing who and what they left behind. But that couldn't change how he felt. And it couldn't change how she liked it too.

So she let herself sink into the passenger seat, she let the music on the radio soothe her, and she looked forward to the dinner Damon would make and the wine waiting on them. She looked forward to going home. Their home. Small enough for only two, for only them, and perfect for the exact same reason.

* * *

><p><strong> ONE YEAR<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie frowned up at him. "You don't think this is a little weird?"<p>

"What's weird about it? It's a milestone, isn't it? People celebrate milestones." He shrugged, handing her a few drinks to carry back to the table.

"I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to celebrate the day we _died_, Damon." She kept her voice low, her eyes darting around to make sure nobody had heard. The bar was packed, but either no one was paying them any attention or the music was loud enough that nobody could hear them.

Damon nodded his chin in thanks to the bartender and grabbed the necks of a few other beers between his fingers. "Was that in the handbook? I don't remember reading the chapter on what was and wasn't socially acceptable in the afterlife," he said to her mockingly.

Rolling her eyes, she followed beside him as they made their way back to the table where Danny, his girlfriend Carla, Naomi, Brandon, and his boyfriend, Chris, were all cluttered around a table, waiting on them. "You know what I _mean_…" She stared up at him, her brows hiked. "And what did you tell them anyway?"

"That you've been working your pretty little butt off and we wanted to have a night out for once. Not a lie, if you think about it. You spend five days a week in your store, and most of your weekends getting ready for the work week. Anybody ever tell you that all work and no play makes Bon-Bon a dull witch?" He pouted his lips at her and winked before she frowned in reply. "Come on…" he cajoled. "You need a night off, I need a night off, there's a karaoke machine in this joint, and we already paid for our drinks. What's a couple hours, huh?"

"Karaoke?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes, and we're signed up to go any minute now, so put on your game face. We're gonna blow these amateurs outta the water."

Eyes wide, she whispered quickly, "_We what?!"_

As the song finished up on the stage— an off-tune rendition of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, an entirely over karaoke'd song in Damon's opinion— a manager hopped on stage to take the mic back, half-smiling, half-grimacing, and said, "All right folks, it's Bonnie and Damon up next, singing… _Whatta Man_, Salt n' Pepa."

Bonnie turned toward him, her lips pursed. "_Seriously?_"

Damon grinned. Stopping by the table, he dropped the beers off with everybody, taking them from Bonnie's hands too.

Rubbing his hands together excitedly, he winked at the gathered group, who were already hooting and hollering in support, and then snagged Bonnie's fingers to pull her toward the stage.

"Damon," she growled. "We are _not _singing that. It's not even a _duet!_"

"Too late now, should'a said something earlier." He pulled her up the stairs, wiggling his eyebrows at her as he took the mic from the manager and turned, his arm wrapping around Bonnie's waist and pulling her in close. "Ready?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "What do you _think?_"

Unperturbed, he merely handed her the mic. "You get to start, so be sure to bring your A-game."

As the song started up, Bonnie let out a heavy sigh. She raised the mic to her mouth and looked to the screen, where the lyrics were written, waiting for her to begin. With a blink, she shook her head and, deciding to just go with it, opened her mouth to sing, "_Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, what a mighty good man…_"

Not the least bit ashamed, Damon gave her a spin, swaying happily to the beat, and, despite herself, Bonnie started to smile, laughing to herself before she launched into the first real verse.

So it was a weird thing to celebrate, being dead a whole year, but, all things considered, it was one of the calmest years she'd had in a while, and maybe she did deserve to have a little fun. Even excluding everything that happened when she was alive, she'd been working hard to keep her shop going and create some semblance of a normal life here. So what was one night of blowing off a little steam?

As it turned out, watching Damon spend the rest of his night, a little bit drunk and a lot eager to sing was, surprisingly, a lot more fun than she expected. She might just have to make it a regular thing.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie frowned as she stepped out of the back storage room of her store to find Kayla sweeping the floor. Closing and locking the door behind her, Bonnie carried the inventory book with her to the front till. "Hey," she said, offering a half smile when Kayla jumped, turning to see her. "Aren't you here a little early? You don't get off school for another hour…"<p>

Kayla tugged her earbuds out and let them hang around her neck. "Oh, well, it was just Trig. I'm ahead in the homework anyway, so I figured I'd just come in early."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Yeah… Do your parents know you're here?"

Shrugging, she turned her attention back to her sweeping, her long dark hair falling in waves and curls, pulled over one shoulder. "Did you hear Miss Cora was planning on bringing in some homemade honey for us to sell?" she asked, changing the subject. "She said her bees are producing more this year than usual. That'll be cool."

Bonnie watched her curiously. "You know you can talk to me right…? If something's going on at school or home, we can talk about it. Any time you want."

Kayla glanced back at her over her shoulder, one of her long silver earrings swinging. She had silver studs and hoops pierced all along the shell of her ear. "Yeah, I know."

"Okay." Bonnie cast her attention back down to her books, even as she tracked Kayla's movements around the room. She couldn't help but be reminded of Elena when she looked at Kayla, and it wasn't just the long, dark hair or the olive skin. It was the way Kayla moved, how she waited for the burden on her shoulders to get to be too much before she shared it. The difference was that Kayla wore her emotional turmoil in her dark clothes and her piercings where Elena always tried to fit in and follow the latest fashion trends, presenting a 'put together' appearance even when her life was falling apart at the seams.

Finally, after more than twenty minutes of aimlessly walking around the store or stocking shelves, Kayla made her way back to Bonnie, picking at her chipped, maroon nail polish. "Did you always know you wanted to open up a shop like this?"

"What do you mean?" Bonnie wondered, laying her pen down and sitting back on her stool.

"Well, you moved her from New York, right? So you grew up in the city…"

Bonnie shook her head. "I grew up in a small town, a lot like this one, actually."

"So you went to the city to get away from it but then moved back?" Kayla's brow furrowed. "_Why?_"

"Is that what you want to do?"

Kayla shrugged. "I don't know… I mostly just want to fit in. Kind of hard to do in a place like this."

"Why's that?"

"You ever just feel like you're completely different from everyone around you?" Kayla blew out a breath and shifted her feet. "I was always into weird things, I guess. I told my mom I was a witch when I was six. She told me I didn't know what it meant and that I was a princess." Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "You know what sucks about princesses…? They're not _dragons_."

"And witches are?" Bonnie's mouth turned up in a smile.

"Witches are strong and powerful. If they want fire, they can _make _fire, you know? _That's _what I want."

Humming, Bonnie nodded. "Well, you see, your first problem is that you think a princess can't be a dragon. Anybody can be a dragon. It's all about how you _think_, not about what you _are_. If you want to be strong, confident, you want to be your own person, you have to think that about _yourself_, everybody else will just follow in your example." Shrugging, she said, "My Grams used to tell me I could be anything I wanted to be. So I am. I don't always make the right choices, but I try to. I didn't always speak up, but I do now. I didn't always feel like I fit in, so I _made _a place for myself. And you should too. Just make sure you're doing it for the right reasons. You're not going to find yourself hidden somewhere else. You'll find you hidden in _you_."

Kayla half-smiled up at her. "So that's the big secret, huh? Accept yourself and fuck the rest."

"Maybe with less profanity, but… _yeah_. That's the secret."

Rolling her eyes, Kayla laughed under her breath, and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Okay. I guess I'll work on that… I've got a few years before I can hit the road anyway, right? Might as well figure out me while I'm at it."

"Sounds like a plan." Bonnie smiled. "_Until then_… How would you feel about stocking the vitamin section?"

"As long as it's not the foot odor remover, I'm your girl." Kayla walked off to the storage room with that and Bonnie smiled to herself. There was no guarantee their talk would fix anything, but she did like that Kayla saw her as someone she could trust. And it kind of felt good to dole out advice; she hadn't been able to do that in too long. A pang in her chest reminded her how much she missed Caroline and Elena, but she noticed it wasn't quite as strong as it had been more than a year ago. That was something, she guessed.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"I can't tell if you're being lazy or…" she trailed off.<p>

Damon rolled his eyes. "_Hey_, reading happens to be one of my favorite pastimes."

"_Okaaay_…" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Then why are you getting _me _to read to you?" she wondered.

"Quid pro quo, Bon-Bon. You read, I rub."

Bonnie glanced down to her feet, currently perched in Damon's lap, and then back at the book in her own. "_Fine_. But only because I had a _very _long day…"

He waved a 'get on with it already' hand at her before focusing back on her feet.

Bonnie cracked the book open to the beginning and started to read. The book he'd picked was one they both had agreed on, seeing as she didn't feel like getting into anything so dense her brain would start leaking from her ears. She also didn't want anything full of sex, however, and she wouldn't put it past him to pick one exactly like that just to bug her. Instead, they ended up going with his favorite, _The Call of the Wild_. In part because she'd wanted to read it since finding out it was his favorite, once upon a time thinking it would give her a peek into Damon's head. After this long, her reason for wanting to read it had changed. She felt like she already knew him better than she'd ever expected to and didn't need any help in figuring him out. Still, it was his favorite for a reason and she wanted to see what the appeal was.

She made it through half a chapter before he interrupted her. "Anybody ever tell you that you have tiny feet?"

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "I have normal feet."

"Normal for an exceptionally tiny person. Look at them. They're doll-like…" He gave one of her toes a wiggle. "Then again, _you're_ tiny, so it makes sense."

She opened her mouth to argue but he grinned at her and pointed.

"That, right there, that chin tilt, you do that to make yourself look taller, don't you?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I do not," she scoffed.

But his smirk wouldn't let up and, despite wanting to brush him off, she was enjoying his foot rub, and perhaps even the book, too much to leave the room in a huff.

He rubbed his knuckles down the arch of her foot and seemed rather proud of himself when she wiggled in answer, squirming in her seat. "Admit you're tiny."

"No."

"Come on…" he cajoled. "You're what, five feet?"

"Five foot three," she said defensively.

His smirk only widened. "Tiny… little… bird," he said, tugging on a toe with each word before his hands swept up and circled her ankle, rubbing up the back of her calf, kneading as they went.

She bit her lip to keep an appreciative noise from leaving her throat and just watched him, looking far too satisfied with his deduction. She would give him that, if only because his hands were doing wonders for the pain of being on her feet all day. Just this once. He'd no doubt tease her about her short stature in the near future; she would put him in his place then. For now, she would get back to reading. She opened the book to where her thumb had kept her place and continued, all the while getting immersed both in the rhythmic feel of his hands and the intense book she read aloud.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie was mid-conversation with Carla when Damon's arm swept around her waist and pulled her backwards, into his chest. He swung her around so she was facing him and then began leading her around their back porch in a somewhat sloppy dance, one arm around her waist while the other raised her hand with his, linked together. His hair was messy, his smile was wide, his face was flushed, and his eyes were a little glazed.<p>

"You're drunk," she said knowingly.

"Drunk, happy, same difference," he dismissed, giving her a little twirl.

She hooked her hand over his shoulder when she came to a stop. "And to think, _you _were the one who said he didn't want to have a barbecue…"

"I've come around to it." His eyes widened as he stared down at her. "Could be the beer, could be the burgers, who knows."

Bonnie snorted. "Yeah, or it could be that you're annoying our neighbor, and we both know how much joy you get out of pissing off Gladys."

He smirked then. "She _is_ a crotchety old hag..."

"_Damon,_" Bonnie admonished, pinching his shoulder.

"You know I'm right. I thought Tom was exaggerating, but she tries to bust me on everything. I took the garbage out last night, and she said I _walked _too loudly down the driveway." His eyebrows arched. "I'm a light walker, Bonnie. You don't spend a hundred and fifty years stalking prey and _not _learn how to walk lightly."

Folding her lips to keep her laughter hidden, she shook her head at him.

"What? What's that look?" he lowered their knotted hands and poked her cheek with his finger. "Are you laughing at me, Miss Bennett?"

She stared up at him, amused. "You know what you're doing?"

"Dancing?"

"Yes, that, horribly," she agreed. "But you're also making an archenemy out of our eighty year old neighbor…" She nodded. "You're so bored, you'll take anyone."

"One, she's seventy-eighty. Two, there aren't a whole lot to pick from, so sue me for settling. And three, don't defend her. She might not pick on you to your face, but she's not some kind old lady that evil Damon's making out to be the devil…" He frowned then, looking away darkly, his good mood rapidly fading. "Trust me."

"Hey," she said gently. When he wouldn't look at her, she slid her hand up his shoulder and squeezed the nape of his neck. "Damon."

Taking a deep breath, he adopted a smile and looked at her, dropping his face down so their foreheads were pressed together. "Do me a favor…"

"Within reason," she answered.

"Just dance with me, all right? We've got good tunes on, I've eaten my weight in red meat, the _only_ people I like in this town are here, drinking all of my booze, and _you_… You look really pretty tonight, did I mention that?"

"You said something to that effect, yeah." She cocked her head. "I think you said 'hey, look at that, you _do _clean up nice.'"

"One of my better lines." His arm tightened around her waist and he danced them around in an oblong of a circle. "One song?"

"Two, if you're good."

He hummed, turning to rest his cheek against her hair. "I don't know how to be good."

Funny, she thought, that's what he'd been for quite some time now.

One song turned into two and then three before Naomi stole her away to talk shop and Damon soon found himself chatting with Brandon and Chris. The night wore on nicely, the barbecue eventually ending quite a bit later than anyone expected. Bonnie saw everybody out, hugging them goodbye and waving from the front door as they all told her they should do it again soon.

After Bonnie locked the front door, she found Damon in the back yard still, sitting in a patio chair, a beer in hand as he looked out over the yard, lit up with fairy lights strung along the fence.

Walking to him, she took a seat on the wooden arm of his chair and stole his beer for a small drag. "You have fun tonight?"

He hummed. "Not bad."

"Yeah?" She smiled down at him. "Are barbecues gonna be our _thing? _Barbecues and terrible karaoke."

"Speak for yourself, I'm _awesome _at karaoke," he said, reaching up to take back his beer.

"You're awesome at air-guitaring while I sing," she corrected.

"Every star needs an entourage." He tipped his beer back for a swig, his arm sliding around her waist. "I'm tired. We should clean up tomorrow."

"Sure," she agreed.

As he stood, he drew her up with him, keeping her close to his side as they stepped through the sliding glass door to the house. Moving down the hall to their bedroom, he said, "You know what?"

"Hm?"

"We should get a dog."

"Yeah?"

"A _loud_ one."

Bonnie's mouth twitched. If this was how Damon wanted to play at still being 'bad,' she could live with it. "Sure. We'll look into that," she said, patting his chest comfortingly.

He might be a cute drunk, but they were _not _getting a dog.

* * *

><p><strong> …<strong>

* * *

><p>"Hey! Say cheese!"<p>

"What?" Damon looked over, confused, only to have a flash blur his vision. Blinking rapidly, he frowned. "_Ow_."

"Baby," Bonnie teased before plopping down beside him. In her hand, she was shaking a Polaroid picture and grinning at him. "I found it in the storage shed out back."

"And decided to _blind _me with it?" he snarked.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "No… I'm gonna make a scrapbook. I used to make them when I was growing up. Me and Grams. I had one for me and Elena, me and Grams, me and dad… Now I can have one for me and you." Before he could snark at her, she handed him the picture she'd taken. It was a candid shot of him as he turned, but his mouth was turned up in an expectant smile as he looked up to meet her.

"Next time, shoot it from my good side."

"You have one?"

He smirked. "Ha. Ha."

Bonnie grinned at him and then scooted over on the couch and leaned her head in close to his. "Come on. This is your three second warning… Smile for the camera."

Damon put on an exaggerated grin, his brows hiked high, and all of his teeth on display. Bonnie elbowed him and it melted into something more genuine, which is when she hit the button to take the picture. When it popped out of the bottom of the old camera, Damon grabbed it before she could, giving it a shake. Slowly but surely, the picture began to show, and, he had to admit, they looked pretty good together. Happy and alive.

"Not bad, Bennett," he said, handing her the picture.

Standing from the couch, she replied, "Looks like you _do _have a good side." With that, she walked off down the hall, in the direction of her office, and he had to admit, he was kind of looking forward to seeing how their scrapbook turned out.

* * *

><p><strong> …<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie would swear under penalty of death that she'd just seen Caroline Forbes, standing in the middle of the street.<p>

In the middle of walking down the sidewalk with Damon, who had already finished his ice cream cone and was currently stealing bites off of Bonnie's, and all too regular occurrence, Bonnie had turned her head as her name was called. She spotted Annette across the street, a pretty Latina woman that, according to Naomi, had been working at the shop alongside them from day one. Annette was waving at her happily from where she walked in the opposite direction, holding the hand of her and Peter's son, four-year-old Jasper. Bonnie smiled in reply and raised her own hand to wave, which was when she saw Caroline simply materialize out of thin air. Blonde and pretty and so confused, standing in the middle of the street in a blue and white floral dress, eyes darting around but never quite landing on anything. Annette had already moved on, as if she hadn't seen it. In fact, nobody else seemed to find the current situation odd at all.

Bonnie stumbled to a stop, staring, slack-jawed, at Caroline. She whispered her name, choked and worried. Caroline wasn't quite corporeal; in fact, she was see-through, enough that Bonnie could clearly make out the store front across the road, but that didn't make her any less real. Bonnie lurched forward, the ice cream cone falling from her fingers, and before she could think better of it, she hurried toward the street. Saying her name, first in a whisper, and then louder, with more desperation, "Caroline… _Caroline!_" again and again, trying so desperately to catch her eye. But Caroline didn't hear her, didn't look at her, she just kept searching around, her mouth moving silently as she talked to… _someone_. _No one_. Not Bonnie, in any case.

A car horn screamed at her suddenly and Bonnie found herself yanked back toward the curb. She struggled for a moment, even as a car went screeching past, narrowly missing her, the driver shouting angrily through the window as he sped past. As soon as the car was gone, she found the street empty. No Caroline, corporeal or otherwise, to speak of.

"What the _hell _is the matter with you?" Damon demanded, his arms wrapped tight around her.

"She's gone. She's _gone_, but she was there! Didn't you see her?" Bonnie wiggled out of his grip and pushed herself up, scanning the street, looking everywhere for any sign of her best friend. Pushing her hands back over her head, flattening her hair, she felt her heart hammer in her chest, and bit her lip as her eyes burned. Turning to face Damon, she stared at him desperately. "Tell me you saw her."

He stared at her, his brow furrowed. "The only thing I saw was you walking off into the middle of the street!" He was angry; his lips were pursed and a muscle ticked in his jaw. "You nearly got yourself _killed_."

"It was Caroline," she choked out, a tear tripping down her cheek. "I _saw _her."

He shook his head. "There was no one there."

"No, I—I _know_ it was her!" She turned back around, looking out over the street, her eyes darting back and forth frantically. "Damon, I saw her…"

"Bonnie—"

"I've been friends with her since first grade!" she exclaimed. "I can tell you who her first crush was, what her favorite color was in fourth grade, Jesus, what day of the week it was she started her period. I remember because she had a slumber party on a Wednesday night, specifically so she could eat junk food and not feel bad about it. So don't look at me like I'm crazy. I _know _Caroline, and that was her!"

He stared at her. "Okay."

"I _did!_" she cried, her shoulders trembling. It was her. It had to be!

Sighing, Damon reached for her, his hands on her arms, tugging her back until she was pressed to his chest. He rested his chin on top of her head. "Okay, I believe you," he said.

He didn't. She knew he didn't. But that didn't stop her from taking comfort from him. She leaned back, relaxing against him, and let his arms wrap around her, just holding her tight, while she stared out at the road, at where Caroline had stood. She wondered what it meant. What she _wanted _it to mean. She stared, hoping something might change, that Caroline might reappear, but she didn't. Minutes passed and there was nothing but the passing traffic and the setting sun.

"Let's go home," she said, her voice quiet, defeated.

"You sure?" he wondered, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

"Yeah." She nodded, offering a faint, empty smile.

He turned them around and started them down the sidewalk, keeping his arm around her waist, pulling her against his side as they walked. She looked back once, her heart aching as she found the street empty.

She'd seen her, though.

She swore she did.

[**Next**: Chapter Three.]

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>: _so I planned for an 'update every week' kind of thing, but this is a day late all the same. it was finished, i just didn't have the time to edit it, so sorry for the wait. someone asked in a review if the town was isolated, so i hope this cleared that up for you. there will be a lot of questions concerning where they are and what it means that will be answered as time goes on, including after they eventually make it back to 'life.' _

_I'm really, really excited to see how many people reviewed. I wasn't sure how many people would like this storyline but I've had so much fun writing it. This is all fun and fluff right now, but things will take a turn when reality comes knocking. still, the fluff is tons of fun as their friendship fluctuates and the romance and intimacy grows._

_thank you all so much for reading! please leave a review; they're very encouraging!_

**- lee | fina **


	3. never the same

**III.**

* * *

><p><strong>TWO YEARS<strong>

* * *

><p>The house was dark; that was the first thing she noticed as she pulled up. The faint flicker of a fire going in the grate gave a soft glow through the kitchen window, but none of the lights were on. Bonnie hit the button on her keychain to lock her car as she crossed the lawn to the front door. It was one of the rare nights that Damon hadn't joined her at the shop after work, which, unfortunately, gave her the leeway to work much later than she usually would. Hence, she was getting home at nearly ten and was more than a little exhausted. Her feet and shoulders ached, her stomach was noticeably empty after forgetting lunch and putting dinner off for so long, and all she wanted was to take a nice, long, bubble bath.<p>

Pushing the door open, she cast her eyes around curiously as she kicked her shoes off and hung up her jacket. The living room was lit up in a faint orange glow, but th fire was low enough that shadows clung to everything, shrouding the room. She didn't spot Damon anywhere; he must have gone to bed already. He never worried about the fire taking their house out; typical.

Shutting and locking the door behind her, she walked into the kitchen. There was a dish by the phone for her keys, so she dropped them inside and left her bag on th counter beside them. She was about to make her way to the fridge, wondering if Damon put away any leftovers for her, her mouth already watering, when she heard a clatter behind her, a bottle of bourbon banging down on the wood coffee table in front of him.

"Well, if it isn't my busy little kumquat, finally home from work…"

Jumping at the jarring noise, Bonnie whirled around to face Damon, who had apparently blended right into the shadows when she'd looked earlier. He was sitting slumped on the couch, hands stacked on his stomach, over a barely buttoned plaid shirt. He was disheveled from head to toe, hair messy and clothes askew. He offered up an empty smirk, looking far too much like a man she hadn't seen in years. The man he was when he first blew into town, empty and full of darkness.

Pushing her frown away, her hand found her hip as she snorted. "Kumquat? _Really? _I think that's in your top ten _worst _nicknames. And that includes last week's 'fruity dumpling' disaster."

He shrugged sloppily. "I don't know. It has a nice ring to it. _Kumquat_." He repeated it to himself a few more times, turning his gaze up toward the ceiling.

Bonnie stared at him, feeling oddly disappointed to see the mostly good mood of the last two years melt away overnight. Was this the moment where he gave up on being okay with their new life? She felt a twisting in her gut. Their life wasn't perfect. They didn't talk about everything and everyone they were missing, not often anyway, but those spaces were still very much present. Especially since her 'Caroline-spotting,' of which she was still adamant had been real. Damon hadn't believed her, and even got annoyed when she brought it up. He didn't want hope. He didn't want her to tell him he might be able to get back, not when he was so sure they never would. And her seeing Caroline might only end in breaking his heart. He was tired of that. Or, at least, that's how Bonnie saw it.

For the most part, Damon had adapted well to their 'afterlife,' or whatever it was that they had been sent to instead of oblivion. He'd made friends and actively searched to avoid anything that might bring his mood down. He might put up a token fight, but he liked it when they had barbecues or went out for drinks with friends or went to the movies every other weekend. Last summer, he'd voluntarily joined Danny on a fishing trip, spent at a cabin by the local lake. It was an all-guys' weekend, so they invited a few of their buddies to go along. Bonnie had been surprised by how enthusiastic he was about it, planning all week for it and even going out to buy brand new fishing supplies, along with a silly looking hat that he'd donned for two days leading up to the trip. It was weird, having the house to herself, she was even relieved when he came home, especially since he looked happier than usual, boasting about his weekend and cooking up a few fish he'd caught for dinner Sunday night.

Because he never talked about it, sometimes she let herself believe that he'd really and truly moved on. She didn't doubt that he missed his brother and Elena, but it was easier and easier to forget that he did when all she saw of him was happy-go-lucky, just go with it, Damon. Now she was realizing that it was probably just one of his many coping mechanisms. Much like alcohol and ready dismissal of any and all feelings had been when they were alive.

It was the two year marker today. Two years since they were ripped out of their lives and sucked into… whatever this place was. This time last year they were drunkenly singing karaoke, but it looked like things wouldn't be quite as easy this time around.

With a soft sigh, she circled the island and made her way into the living room. She took a seat on the coffee table, moving the bottle of bourbon aside. "You wanna talk about it?" she asked, her voice quiet, gentle.

He scoffed, keeping his eyes turned up. "What's to talk about? Huh?"

She stared at him, the tense lines of his body and the shadowed angles of his face. "You tell me."

He didn't say anything for a long moment, and then his jaw ticked. "So it's just on me? Huh? You don't have any more tears to cry? No more 'woe is Bonnie, lost without Jeremy,' is that it?"

She hugged her arms around her waist and refrained from rolling her eyes. "Is that what you want, Damon? For me to cry about Jeremy more?"

He snorted. "Right, 'cause having you bawl your eyes out is so much _fun_ for me…" Before she could say anything, he leaned forward. "No. What I want is to see a little more regret. I want to hear you tell me that you miss them. That you wish they were here. That there's this gaping _hole _inside of you where they used to be and you can't fill it up. You _try_, but you can't. Because it's just… It's _theirs_. And nobody else is going to fit there. Not Danny or Chris or any of them. None of them are going to… _fill _that place." His voice waivered and he quickly cleared his throat, reaching up to press his fingers against his eyes, screwing up his forehead and giving an annoyed grunt.

Bonnie blinked back her own tears. "You're right, none of them will be Stefan for you. Or Alaric. And I don't think they're trying to be. Just like I don't think you're trying to make them fit. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to have friends. People you like who like you too."

"They don't _know _me. They think I'm just some normal _guy_. They don't know what I've done, who I've _been_. They have no idea who I really am and that is… _sad_, and pathetic." He leaned forward, staring at her, his brow furrowed tightly. "I would've _killed_ people like them. Innocent and naïve, trusting any old guy who came by. And _Danny_, with those awful puns. I would've killed him first." His lip curled in a sneer. "Him and Carla both. And then Tom next door, _and_ _his little dog too_," he laughed.

Bonnie watched him calmly, his eyes filled with tears and his face straining with barely restrained emotion.

"I would've drained them all dry, left them laying in the street, and _whistled _happily as I walked away. But they… _They_ invite me into their homes and out for drinks and look at me like I'm just one of their buddies. Normal, average Damon, who works a regular job and has a beautiful girlfriend. Some nine-to-fiver _sap _who'll die of old age with nothing significant to show for it. But I _already _died. _Twice_. And I did things! Awful things and amazing things and every once in a while, I even put on the hero hair and saved people's lives. But you know what? None of them know that! None of them know _me! _The good or the bad, the _evil _or the selfless. They have no _fucking _idea what kind of person I really am and the people that do, the people who liked me anyway, the people that actually _got _any of that… I am _never _going to see them again."

He laughed, high and hollow. "I'm never going to see my _brother_, Bonnie. Nobody here even knows I _have _a brother. He's just gone, no more Stefan. No more brooding, no more telling me what to do, no more sitting up high on his self-righteous horse, none of that. And I used to think that'd be a gift! I used to _cheer _for the day that I wouldn't have to put up with him anymore. But now, all I want is to hear him _nagging _me about how much I'm drinking or how he knows I can be a better person, _blah blah blah_." His breath caught in his throat and he leaned forward, running a hand through his hair roughly.

Bonnie blinked back her own tears, turning her eyes up to get them to drain back inside her. She reached for him, a hand landing gently on his shoulder. And when he didn't push her away, she let it slide up behind his neck, squeezing the nape lightly. "I know it hurts."

He let out a laugh, a short, gruff noise that rattled from his chest.

"I do. I know you miss them. Even if you spent a lot of it fighting, Stefan was your constant. I get that… I didn't have a hundred-plus years with them, but Caroline and Elena, they were _everything _to me. They were the only people I could rely on to always be there. Besides Grams, anyway. So I did everything I could to be there for them. I did everything I could to keep them alive and safe and happy. And I would do it again. I'd do it a thousand more times. Because I love them." She swiped the tears from her cheeks with a clenched fist. "Sometimes I forget that you're hurting too, because you're so good at this. You're _so _good at fitting in and looking like you've just… moved on. But I should've known better, because if there's anything you are, it's really good at pretending you don't care when you really care too much."

He looked up at her then, blue eyes full of broken sadness.

"I can't take it away, Damon. I can't make it better. I can't give them back to you even though I really, _really _want to. And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry I didn't grab you sooner; that you aren't back there with them. I'm sorry you got sucked into this weird in-between world with me where you have to play at being Joe Average. I'm _sorry_." She let out a shuddering breath, staring at him searchingly. "And at the same time, I'm not. Because you're the only one that knows me and I'm lost and sad and I miss them too. So maybe nobody else knows you here, the _real _you, but _I _do. I know exactly who you are." She shook her head. "You're not alone. I might not be your first choice, but I'm here."

He stared at her, his brow furrowed, and then he reached for her, pulling her forward until she was in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, cradling her head against his shoulder, and he just held her. He didn't offer empty words of comfort, he didn't promise that one day they would go back or that everything would be okay. He just held her, his head bowed against hers, his hands making sweeping circles on her back. She could feel a few of his tears dripping off his cheek and falling onto her, but she didn't speak, she just let the storm ease away and the calm sweep over them.

It could've been minutes or hours, but eventually, with the fire little more than dying embers, he stood from the couch, lifting her up and carrying her as he went. Instead of walking to the bedroom like she expected, he carried her into the bathroom. He set her down on her feet before he moved to the tub and turned the taps on to fill it with hot water. He dumped, entirely too much, rose scented bubble bath into it and then stepped back.

"I didn't get around to making dinner earlier, but I can throw something together," he told her.

She stared at him, a faint smile pulling at her lips. "That sounds good."

He lingered for a long moment, nothing but the rushing noise of the water filling the bathtub between them. And then he stepped forward and he bent to press a kiss to her forehead. He didn't say thank you or make a joke to ease the tension. The gesture said enough. When she opened her eyes, and she couldn't quite remember when she'd closed them, he was gone.

Bonnie let out a shaky breath and walked to the tub, sitting on the edge and turning off the taps. She let her fingers dip into the water to test it before she stood again, closing the door and stripping off her clothes before she stepped into the tub and let the water and bubbles surround her. She leaned her had back, neck resting on a rolled up towel, hair tied up and out of the way, and she thought about him, about how rare it was for him to shred the mask and lay himself wide open. He had a set-back. He had a moment where he needed comfort and he needed to break down and she understood that. It wouldn't all be rainbows and sunshine; it couldn't be. But they would get through it. _Together_.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Chris was good people. Of everyone that worked at Bonnie's shop, Damon's favorite was probably Naomi, but one of the stock boys, Brandon, was a nice guy, and his boyfriend Chris was a particularly good pool player. Which helped, because Danny was shit at the game and that meant Damon never felt as good when he kicked his ass. Tonight was no different. Sadie's Pub wasn't packed, but it had a pretty regular crew for a Wednesday night.<p>

"I'm telling you, my game is darts, not pool," Danny insisted.

"Yeah, you wanna explain last week then?" Damon snorted. "You almost took that waitress's eye out."

Chris chuckled from his seat at the table they were sharing, tipping his beer back for a drag.

"She was a looker too. I'm tempted to tell Carla you did it to get her attention."

Danny rolled his eyes. "I was drunk. My aim was off!"

"I don't know. I think we should put it to a vote. Who all thinks Danny's a liability at every game and should probably retire?" Damon raised his hand and Chris followed suit. "See? Two to one. We win."

"Whatever," Danny dismissed. "You two keep this up and I'll forget games and go back to puns."

Chris grimaced. "At least with darts, it's somebody else suffering."

Damon chuckled, his head falling back in amusement.

"Yeah, laugh it up. But she's working again tonight and I'm pretty sure she's still pissed about it." Danny nodded his chin to where a few waitresses were standing together; one in particular, a pretty red-head, cast a glare toward their table.

Chris let out a long whistle. "Good thing we didn't order food."

"You think she'd spit in it?" Danny wondered.

"She's angry enough… She probably has a voodoo doll with your face on it." Damon's mouth turned up in a dark smirk. "Poetic, if you think about it. You tried to hit her with a dart, she sticks you with pins sometimes…"

Danny shifted in his seat. "You know, I've been kind of achy lately, maybe she really does…"

Chris glanced at Damon and then raised a brow at Danny. "Hey, don't worry so much. She doesn't look like the voodoo type to me."

"No?"

"No, she's definitely the shank you in the parking lot type…" Chris winked. "We should probably walk you to your car later, just to be sure."

Danny rolled his eyes. "All right, ha ha, really funny guys. We're just talking about a wronged woman who could fatally wound me here."

Damon shook his head and clapped Danny's shoulder. "Just apologize to her, and mean it."

"That's it?"

"Well, that and maybe promise you'll never go anywhere near the darts again."

Danny snorted, but nodded as he stood from the table. He raised his head up and was just about to leave the table before he paused and looked back at them. "Before I go… A hooker, a rabbi, and a plumber walk into a bar…"

Damon and Chris groaned loudly, but Danny merely grinned as he continued with his joke.

Despite himself, Damon found himself laughing. It was still rough, trying to drown out that voice in his head that reminded him that he wasn't as normal as these guys were, that he had a screwed up history that would've sent them all running for the hills, that neither of them were Stefan or Alaric. But they weren't bad people and, all things considered, the afterlife could be a lot worse.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"I'm not painting your toes."<p>

Bonnie pouted at him. She stuck out her bottom lip and tipped her head, looking up at him with her big green eyes and Damon didn't know when, he could not pin point the _exact_ moment it happened, but he was absolutely under Bonnie Bennett's thumb.

When he sighed, his shoulders slumping, she lit up, her shoulders raised, and she grinned at him. "Yay," she said, reaching for a few different bottles. "Okay, so I couldn't pick which one I liked best, so you have to help me choose first."

Damon raised an eyebrow at her. "A hundred and seventy-five years, Bonnie. I've killed more people than you've _met_ in your life, and this is what you have me doing."

"Yes, I know, your badass reputation is well intact." She rolled her eyes. "I'll be sure not to mention to any evil-doers that you had a moment of weakness."

"A moment of weakness is not picking between bubble gum pink and powder blue nail polish. This is like having me castrated. Why would do this to me, Bonnie? What has my masculinity ever done to you?"

Bonnie pursed her lips and then reached over and plucked up a dark burgundy bottle. "You're right, those two are a little too young for me. This one's better." She waved it at him. "Kind of looks like blood, right? That should make you feel better."

He snapped his fingers and held his hand out for the bottle.

Happily, she handed it over to him.

He gave it a shake and said, "One coat or two?"

Bonnie hummed thoughtfully. "Two."

"The things I do for you…" he sighed.

"It's much appreciated." Stretching her legs out, she placed her feet in his lap. "So? Tell me about your day…"

"I tell you Danny almost lost a finger?"

"No! What happened?"

"_Well_…"

Somewhere, someone was laughing at him for how easily he succumbed to domesticity. And he would gladly kill them should he ever meet them… right after he finished painting Bonnie's toes.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Bonnie… I'm <em>dying<em>," he whined, from where he was sprawled out on the couch, a blanket tucked in around him. "Come take my temperature again, I think my skin's melting off."

"You are _such _a baby, you know that?" she wondered, rolling her eyes as she finished rinsing off a soup bowl and put it in the dish rack. "It's a flu, Damon. You don't have the plague."

He glared at her, but it was half-hearted at best. "You know, when I was alive, getting sick wasn't so far off from getting _dead_."

"I _told _you to get your flu shot…"

"In case it's escaped your attention, we're _dead_, this shouldn't even be possible!What was a flushot supposed to do?"

"Well, you're currently laid up on the couch, so you tell me." Bonnie dried her hands off with a dish towel and dropped it on the island counter before she walked over to him, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of him. "You're still flushed." She pressed the back of her hand to one of his cheeks and frowned. "And you're hot."

His mouth twitched slightly. "We already knew _that_."

She shook her head. "You can't be _too _sick if you're still this corny."

"Hey, my lines are gold," he defended. "In fact, I—" He cut himself off as he was suddenly wracked with a coughing fit. Turning himself over onto his side, his whole body tensed up, fist pressed up close to his mouth as he barely refrained from choking up a lung. Bonnie's hand soothingly ran over his shoulder and back.

When he'd calmed down, she handed him his half-empty bottle of water and a held up a pack of throat lozenges. He knocked back the rest of the room temp water and wrinkled his nose at the cough drops. Still, when she unwrapped one and held it up expectantly, he opened his mouth, half-smiling when she obliged and popped it into his mouth for him. He rolled it around on his tongue a few times before pushing up onto his elbow and patting the seat where he'd been laying.

"I have inventory…" she said.

"Just a few minutes," he asked.

Bonnie bit her lip, sighed, and then stood. She shifted over so she was sitting on the couch and waited as he dropped his head down onto her lap. Somewhat amused by his need for physical affection when he wasn't feeling good, she dragged her fingers through his hair, surreptitiously checking his forehead again. He _was _pretty warm, but she'd checked his temperature a few times. He had a fever, yes, but he was still low enough not to need to medical intervention.

Snuggling his cheek down against her legs, Damon half-closed his eyes and let out a content breath. "You make that soup yourself?" he wondered.

"Mm-hmm. Grams' recipe."

"Sheila knew what she was doing," he complimented. "First thing I've kept down."

Absently, she knocked her knuckles against the wood table beside them; Damon's mouth tipped up when he noticed.

"She used to make it for me whenever I got sick. I asked her to teach me how to make it when I was twelve and dad was down with a nasty flu."

He raised an eyebrow and turned his head to look up at her. "So what you're telling me if that you've been letting me do all the cooking while you're holding out on some classic Sheila Bennett recipes?"

Bonnie smiled. "Maybe if you're lucky, I'll teach you a few."

"I'll hold you to that," he said before turning his head back down. His eyes fluttered a few times before she felt him start to drift off, gradually relaxing against her.

She'd planned to move out from under him and lay his head down on a pillow while she got back to her work, but a minute and then five passed with her lightly stroking his hair as he slept. Maybe just a few more minutes; he seemed to sleep better when she was close by. That was what she told herself anyway. Resting her head on the back of the couch, she let her fingers continue to comb through his soft hair and closed her own eyes. It wasn't so bad. Sure, he was a baby about feeling sick, but it was kind of endearing to see 'bad ass' Damon fall prey to a common flu. She could probably do without the whining, but the cuddling wasn't _so _bad… Not that she would evertell _him_ that. She also wouldn't tell him about the picture she took of him when he was napping, cheeks flushed and looking all the more innocent for it. She would totally be adding that to the scrapbook later.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"We're not going to another horror movie." Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "Haven't we had enough of that in our lives?"<p>

"Call it nostalgia." Damon shrugged. "Anyway, I'm not going to another Nicholas Sparks movie. And nothing with Channing Tatum either. Unless it's another Jump Street sequel, then I might be persuaded. _Maybe_. On a good day."

She rolled her eyes. "Way to narrow things down, Damon. What about a comedy, huh?" She pointed to one of the posters hanging outside of the theater, behind glass and lit up with blinking lights. "That one looks funny."

Damon raised a skeptical eyebrow at the poster. "What's with you and Tom Hanks?"

Sighing, she tossed her hands up. "Who doesn't love Tom Hanks?"

"_Me_. I don't love Tom Hanks."

"Now you're just arguing to argue." As the line moved forward, Bonnie dug around in her purse for her wallet. "Either pick something that doesn't involve murder, or we're seeing that movie."

Sighing, long, loud, and overdramatically, Damon turned his attention up the list of movies listed above the theater entrance, lit up brightly atop the blue and pink lights flashing beneath it. He wasn't seeing anything he liked and his lips pursed. "Why didn't we check what was playing before we left?"

"Because you're impatient," she answered simply. "I barely had time to shower before you shoved me out the door."

"Now who's exaggerating?" He looked down at her, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I—"

"Bonnie?"

She paused, turning her head and searching out the voice.

Kayla popped into sight then and waved a hand, half-smiling a little awkwardly. She walked toward them, tucking her hands in her leather jacket, her boots making a noticeable clomp. "Hey." She looked between her boss and Damon before asking, "I'm not interrupting date night, am I?"

Bonnie shook her head. "No, no, it's fine."

"Yes. You are," Damon said, amused when Bonnie elbowed him. "What're you doing out, emo lite? Isn't it past your bedtime?" he teased.

Kayla rolled her eyes. "It's not that late, and my curfew's eleven. I've got plenty of time." She turned back to Bonnie to ask, "What're you going to see?"

"Well, Damon wanted to see Blood Ripper 7, but we're probably going to see the new Tom Hanks movie instead."

Kayla lit up then. She fairly hopped where she stood, reaching up to tuck her curly hair behind her ears as she grinned up at him. "No way, you're a Ripper fan? I love that series! I have the first six, plus the book series it's based on. My favorite's the fourth one; I have the Super Blood Extended Edition."

Damon blinked down at her and then turned to Bonnie. "See? Even _she _appreciates a good horror movie."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "We're not going to it. If you wanna watch all that blood and gore stuff, you can happily go without me. I want popcorn, Swedish fish, and Tom Hanks. In that order."

Damon sighed. "Spoilsport."

"Actually, I have a bootleg of it, if you wanna borrow it. I haven't watched it yet, so I can't guarantee quality, but…" Kayla trailed off, shrugging.

He quirked a curious eyebrow. "Really?"

"Sure." She shrugged. "I usually can't get in to see it when it opens. I used to have a friend who worked here that would sneak me into R-rated movies, but he quit, so now I have to suffer like every other kid my age…"

Damon's mouth quirked. "You know, you can get in if you have a parent with you."

She snorted. "Like my parents would. I can't remember the last time we ever went to a movie together," she muttered, glaring down the street and shifting her feet uncomfortably.

Damon turned his eyes to the side and Bonnie caught him looking. He raised an eyebrow in silent communication and she pursed her lips back at him. He raised the other eyebrow and tilted his head in Kayla's direction. She raised her chin and put a hand to her hip. Damon sighed, to which Bonnie sighed, her shoulders deflating, and then he grinned triumphantly. Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"Kayla, would you like to see Blood Ripper 7 with us?" Bonnie wondered, looking over at the girl curiously.

"What? _Really?_" She perked up hopefully.

Bonnie nodded, offering a faint smile. "Sure, if you don't mind me hiding my eyes every time something gross happens."

"No, that's totally cool! I mean…" She reorganized her face so she didn't look quite so eager. "I guess it'd be fun, if you don't mind me interrupting your date."

"Oh, I'm sure I can watch Tom Hanks another night." She looked up at Damon sternly. "Can't I?"

He grinned. "Sure. Date Night Take Two. In the meantime, I'll buy you some popcorn and Swedish fish."

As the line moved forward, he hung a friendly arm around Kayla's shoulders, his other arm around Bonnie's waist, and ushered them toward the ticket booth. "Who's ready for a bloody good night?"

Despite herself, Bonnie smiled at his enthusiasm, and especially at how excited Kayla looked. While it wasn't her first choice of movie, it was nice to see them both looking so animated. She could put up with a little over-the-top blood and gore for that.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>He was singing again. Bonnie couldn't remember when exactly that became normal, but at some point she got used to finding Damon in the kitchen, shirtless and singing along to whatever music period had caught his attention that month while he cooked up breakfast for them. It was Aerosmith this morning, and Damon was very enthusiastically singing along to 'Crazy,' which seemed rather apt in her opinion.<p>

While he moved around the kitchen, hips rocking and lips moving along with the lyrics, Bonnie smiled, leaning in the hallway as she watched him give himself over to the music. His hair was still mussed from sleep and his pajama pants were slung low on his hips. She purposely kept quiet so he wouldn't notice her, letting the song play through before she stepped out, crossing the floor in her slippers, letting them shuffle on the floor.

He looked over, a smile playing at his lips.

"Look who's finally up..."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I slept in a little."

"Late night, sweet potato?" he teased, flipping the bacon.

"Hey, it's Saturday, I can sleep in if I want to."

"True, it's just rare to see you actually do it."

"I know, I'm dull and boring and I work too much." She moved to take a seat on the stool in front of the island, but he shook his and hummed negatively. "What?" She frowned.

"Work too much, yes, absolutely. But the other stuff…?" He shook his head. "Not so much."

Before she could ask him what put him in such a good mood, Damon tossed his spatula down on the counter and circled the island.

"C'mere."

As the CD switched and a new song started to play, he took up her hand and pulled her close. Drawing her arms up and around his neck, he dropped his hands to her hips and started moving them around the floor in a circle. Bonnie looked up at him curiously, recognizing the tune as another Aerosmith song. Damon didn't sing along this time, his lips didn't even move, but he stared back intently as they danced.

_I kept the right ones out,  
>And let the wrong ones in,<br>Had an angel of mercy to see me through all my sins…_

He reached up to tuck her hair back behind her ear, his thumb stroking her cheek lightly.

Bonnie smiled gently. As the song went on, she turned her head and rested her cheek against his chest. Damon kept his arm around her, his free hand sliding down her hair to rest at her shoulder. She split her attention between the steady beat of his heart and the music in the background. They moved comfortably, in sync with each other, like she knew which way he would step before he did. His hand against her back was a comfortable weight, familiar and wanted. She wasn't sure what brought on this mood, but she liked it. So, she nuzzled her nose against him contently and moved around the floor, happily wrapped up in his arms. And when the song ended and they parted, she simply smiled and took her seat at the island while he returned to making their breakfast.

"Y'know, I partied with Aerosmith a few times," he told her.

"Yeah?" she asked, perching her chin on her hands. "Tell me about it…"

"All right, first, picture it… It was 1977…"

Bonnie grinned as he got lost in his memories, happy to share them with her.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie blamed it on a distinct lack of sleep. She'd had her head buried in her office, going over supplies, when her bladder decided to interrupt her. Without thinking, she'd simply walked into the bathroom, giving no attention to the fact that the door was closed at the time. In her defense, she'd gone into her office in the morning and hadn't noticed how much time had passed. In fact, she hadn't realized Damon was home; he'd left that morning to hang out with Chris and watch a football game or something. She honestly hadn't been paying that much attention, too busy going over her stock list and prepping for what would be a busy day with Naomi; they'd be spending much of Sunday making candles it looked like. Especially cinnamon; they were running really low on those.<p>

So when she stepped through the door, she was more than a little surprised to see Damon in the tub. It wasn't the first time he'd called her into the bathroom when he was submerged in bubbles, usually to tell her about his day, completely ignoring the fact that he was naked. The man had no shame. But this time was different. Because this time, there were no bubbles, just lightly scented water, a scattering of candles (cinnamon, of course), and a glass of bourbon sitting on the floor within reach. Lastly, and most importantly, there was Damon, whose hand was noticeably wrapped around his—

"Oh my God!" She froze on spot, her eyes down, focused entirely too clearly on what he was doing. What he hadn't _stopped _doing, despite her standing there.

She should have turned around, walked away, done anything but keep staring, but that was exactly what she did. _Stared_.

"Did you want a picture for your scrapbook?" he quipped, an eyebrow raised.

Her eyes raised abruptly, centered on his amused face, and then swiftly turned up toward the ceiling. "I—I didn't know! I didn't mean to… I am _so _sorry." Embarrassment flooded through her and her heart hammered irregularly.

Bonnie wasn't looking, so she didn't see him shrug, but she was pretty sure the way the water sloshed against the walls of the tub were telling her that was what he'd done. Either that or his hand had sped up and— wait, _no_. She wasn't thinking of that. She wasn't thinking about that _at all_.

"No big deal. Everybody does it."

She shifted her feet uncomfortably. "Yes, but not everybody has someone walk in on them while they're… doing it."

He chuckled lowly. "No need to sound so uptight, Bon-Bon. It's not like I haven't seen that pink vibrator you have in your sock drawer. If I had my other hand, I'd clap. The size was impressive."

Bonnie could feel her cheeks heat up. "_Damon!_"

"Considering the topic, I'd hope you'd say my name a _little_ differently. Maybe make it more breathy. Or just longer. Really stretch it out…"

"Oh my God," she muttered under her breath.

"Just 'Damon' is fine."

Annoyed, she looked down long enough to glare and then turned on her heel, quickly leaving the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. "And stay out of my sock drawer!" she yelled, stomping down the hallway.

While she didn't hear it, she was sure he was laughing at her. She went in search of a bottle of wine in hopes that it might help dull the very explicit image permanently seared into her brain. _Ugh_. She was never going to live this down.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"You know what we should have added to these popcorn strings?" Bonnie asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor by the fire, a throw blanket tucked around her lower half. A collection of miscellaneous Christmas decorations surrounded them while mugs of hot chocolate and spiced egg nog rested on the brick ledge in front of the fireplace.<p>

"Cranberries?" Annette said knowingly.

"_Exactly_." She shook her head, disappointed. "I never remember those."

"Lucky for you…" Annette reached over and pulled her bag closer to her. She unpacked a few of Jasper's toys before she reached the bag of dried cranberries on the bottom. "I think of everything."

Bonnie grinned, reaching to take the bag from her outstretched hand. "The shop's going to look great this year. Naomi lent me this fake snow she had from last year and I found this awesome manger and wise men set-up the other day. I was thinking we'd stretch these out over the tops of the shelves, what do you think?"

"Sounds lovely. I might just make a few extra of these for my tree at home, too."

Taking a look around her own house, Bonnie nodded. "I should too. This place needs some holiday cheer."

A honk horned outside then, grabbing their attention.

Bonnie glanced toward the front door and then tipped her head back to shout, "Damon! The guys are here!"

He didn't answer, but, thirty seconds later, Damon came down the hallway, still pulling his winter jacket on.

Bonnie lifted up from the floor, giving a little shiver as the cool air touched her despite her wool pants and oversized sweater. She made her way over to him and gave him a perusal from head to toe; he had his snow pants on, making his legs look abnormally thick. "You have your gloves?" she wondered.

He pulled them from his jacket pocket to show her. "Check."

"Did you put on those wool socks I got you? Your feet got cold last time." She reached up to readjust the scarf around his neck and tucked the collar of his coat around him.

Damon pulled on his gloves and nodded. "Yeah, I remembered."

"And your hat too. It's that or ear muffs."

He rolled his eyes and plucked a hat out from his other pocket. "Are you done mothering me yet?" he asked, but his mouth turned up at the corner all the same.

"Not quite." She tipped her head toward the kitchen. "I made you hot chocolate to take with you."

He perked up. "Is it—?"

"Grams' recipe? Yes."

His grin widened. "Have I mentioned lately that you're the best?"

She snorted. "Even when I nag?"

"_Especially _when you nag."

She shrugged, smiling. "Never hurts to hear it again."

Damon nodded knowingly and then ducked down to press a sloppy kiss to her cheek. "You and Annette have fun. And stay warm. Don't let the fire die down. The electricity's been spotty since the storm."

"Okay."

"I'll be back in a few hours." He pulled his hat on over his hair and adjusted it for comfort. "Do me a favor and stay off the roads. Danny said there were already a few accidents."

"We'll be busy with the decorations anyway," she assured. "We've got plenty to eat, so we shouldn't need to go anywhere."

"Good." At another honk outside, he said, "I gotta go." He pressed another kiss to her cheek. "Be good."

"Stay warm!" she called after him as he walked toward the front door, grabbing up his thermos of hot chocolate and his snow shovel as he went.

He waved back at her before he shut the door and started down the snow filled yard to the truck out front, joining Danny, Chris, Peter and Brandon in a joint effort to try and clear up some of the streets and driveways in the neighborhood.

Bonnie started back toward the living room and retook her seat on the floor, grabbing up the ends of her blanket and pulling them back around her. She smiled to herself, feeling rather content, and picked up her own hot chocolate for a sip.

"So when's he going to put a ring on it?" Annette wondered.

Bonnie choked.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>It snuck up on him, how easy it was to be with her. How comfortable he could be in this oddly domestic little life they had carved out together. But he liked it. He liked waking up in the morning and seeing her beside him. He liked making her breakfast and dinner and the way she leaned into the kiss goodbye he pressed to her cheek each morning. He liked how she still gave him that exasperated look when he did something or said something she didn't agree with. He liked that she still fought with him in the mornings to have the first shower, sometimes racing him to the bathroom. And the way she wrinkled up her nose and pursed her mouth when he made her vampcakes. He liked knowing that he had her to come home to, every night. It made sense, he guessed. He'd spent so much of his life chasing the idea of belonging with someone, of being loved so completely that he wouldn't be left behind. The most unstable person in any room and all he'd ever wanted was stability. Acceptance. Love.<p>

Bonnie didn't always agree with him. If anything, she disagreed just _because _it was him. But she was dependable and she cared and she was loyal to a fault. A very big fault. The kind that usually resulted in her death. Only now, there was none of that. No more vampires or doppelgangers or witches. Just normal, boring, small town life, and it was… idyllic. Sure, he'd always been more attracted to the booming city landscape, but that fit his predatory lifestyle at the time. Now he was a nine-to-fiver that brought home a paycheck and cooked elaborate dinners for the wife. Okay, so she wasn't technically his wife, or even his girlfriend, but she was… _his_. In a way. It wasn't romantic. He wasn't _in love _with her. But… he loved her. He cared about her. He checked every window and door before he went to sleep at night and he worried sometimes, what little he could do in his very human body if they ever did run into a problem. And yeah, that brought up the question of _could _they die if they were already dead? Of course, he didn't feel too eager to test that out. All he knew was that Bonnie was _his_. His friend, his stability, his familiarity, his _home. _

And sometimes, even if he didn't like to think about it, she felt like a lot more than that…

She'd fallen asleep on the couch again; in the middle of reading Jane Eyre, she'd just sort of drifted off. Her feet were in his lap. How he got into the habit of rubbing her feet, he had no idea. He was sure his brother would take great pleasure in making fun of him for it too, but, fortunately (or unfortunately, depending), Stefan wasn't there to see him turn into a bit of a pushover when it came to his smart-alecky former-witch.

So her feet were in his lap, tucked up close to his stomach when the fire began to die down and a faint chill filled the room. He snuck a hand in under her ankles and lifted them as he slid out from under her. He took his time then, checking each of the windows, locking the doors, turning off the lights. Finally, with the fire put out, he made his way back to her. He carefully took the plaid blanket off of her and folded it over the back of the couch before he slid her book from beneath her hand, marked it, and put it on the end table for her to read tomorrow. Tucking his arms under her, he easily lifted her up from the couch. Her head fall back against his shoulder and she shifted a little, but stayed asleep. She was such a tiny little thing; light as a feather, even without his vampire strength. Maneuvering around the furniture, he started down the hall toward their bedroom. The double-doors leading into their room were left open and the crisp smell of potpourri and clean linens met his nose. He laid her down gently on her side of the bed and folded the blanket up and around her. She let out a soft hum and stuck one of her feet out from beneath the blanket, just like always. His mouth ticked up, amused. For a moment, he just stared down at her, content and safe. It'd been a long time since he felt that way, or since he felt like the people he cared about were that way.

Despite always thinking they were all each other had, he knew he had friends here. If he had to pick out his best friends, at least on this plain, it was Danny and Chris. They were good guys. Easy going and always up for hanging out, getting a few drinks, or shooting a game of pool. He had a good routine and he'd made nice with a few people around the neighborhood. He was friendly with all of Bonnie's employees at the shop too; Kayla was a good kid and he liked flirting with Naomi since it always amused her and made her pat his cheek like he was adorable. So he had friends, and he had a life, and, truth be told, if he wanted to, he _could _move out and date and build up a life all his own. He just… wasn't ready to. Or maybe he didn't want to. It wasn't just because Bonnie was the only link he had to his life. It wasn't because she was the only person he knew that remembered their friends and family, or knew exactly who he was. It wasn't for any other reason than because she was her.

He would miss her if they weren't together every day.

Hell, he spent half of his work day thinking about what he was going to make her for dinner, what he would surprise her with next, which foods and flavors she would love and which would take her by surprise, what stories from his 160+ years of life he would tell her. He always had a skip in his step when Danny dropped him off in front of the shop, not because his day was over, but because he got to see Bonnie.

He knew it was dangerous territory to be treading on. He knew that it could blow up in his face. And he knew that he wasn't completely over Elena. He wasn't entirely sure he ever would be. But he also knew that Bonnie made him happy. Even when she made him crazy. And maybe, one day, he might explore that. For now though, he was content. So he tucked the blanket in around her shoulders and he climbed in on his side of the bed, and he fell asleep, smiling about the bacon and eggs he was going to make for her in the morning, and how he could use a couple hashed browns to make fangs on the bacon smile.

[**Next**: Chapter Four.]

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>: _so, we're starting to see the shift moving beyond friendship here, which I'm really excited about. it's still going to be a while before that romantic end evolves because I do think they're still in a stage where they're not ready for that, but it's interesting to see more intimate moments play out as they grow together. I was also really glad I got to explore a little more of Damon's feelings, because I think he's the type to cover up what's going on in his head until it just kind of boils over. _

_thank you all so, so much for reviewing. It's really keeping me motivated and I'm enjoying the different reactions. You're not going to find out why Caroline popped up for a bit yet, but she will make another appearance soon, as well as another mystery that pops up and causes some questions. _

_please leave a review; they're very appreciated!_

_thanks for reading!_

**- lee | fina**


	4. hello denial

**IV.**

* * *

><p><strong>THREE YEARS<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie liked the mornings best.<p>

The nights had their advantages; it was always nice to relax on the couch, a glass of wine in reach and her feet in Damon's lap, not so subtly asking for him to rub them. He always did. Oh, he sighed and complained that she took advantage of his 'kind disposition' but he always went ahead and massaged them.

Still, it was the mornings she loved.

Damon could be a heavy sleeper. Enough that she wondered if it was only his previously sensitive vampire hearing that made sure he woke up before. Or maybe he was just more comfortable here, aware that he was safe so he didn't startle at any small sound. These days, unless it was a weekend, waking him up meant the scent of coffee and shaking his shoulder until he finally gave up and opened his eyes. They had an alarm but he could sleep right through it, every single time.

All things considered, he looked abnormally sweet when he slept. Of course, that didn't stop her from leaping on the bed and yelling "Wake up! Wake up!" She grinned as he startled so bad he nearly fell off the bed.

Retaliation was to be expected, so she wasn't completely surprised when he knocked her leg out from beneath her and pinned her to the bed, awake but tired. He all but growled, "Was that strictly necessary?"

She didn't like to admit that sometimes she did it just for that reaction. For the way he felt on top of her, the weight of him, the look in his sleepy blue eyes. She convinced herself she just felt lonely sometimes, that it was okay to miss those things. It'd been three years since she had that kind of intimacy, it made sense that she would latch onto what she and Damon had. It was the closest thing she had.

Putting it out of her mind, she offered a smug grin. "You've got work in an hour. I distinctly remember you saying you'd make me breakfast, but there's a noticeable lack of eggs frying."

He huffed, rolling his eyes, and then hauled himself off of her to stumble off to the bathroom for a quick shower. "Better be coffee made, little witch!" he called back.

She bit her lip for a moment, listening to the snap of the bathroom door closing as she lay in their bed, the scent of him still invading every breath. Giving her head a shake, she rolled herself out of bed and made her way down the hall to the kitchen. She got the coffee pot going and she grabbed out each of their favorite mugs before she walked to the dining room table and unfolded the newspaper. When he walked out a few minutes later, his hair still wet and dripping, she watched him as he put together their breakfast, turning the radio on to hum to. Life returned to normal. He sat across from her as he put a plate down of scrambled eggs and sausage, a slice of buttered toast and a jar of her favourite jam in reach. She put a sugar cube into his coffee and handed him the newspaper before she focused on her meal.

Conversation flowed comfortably. "Where are you and Danny working today?"

"We're finishing up that garage Andy Wilson wanted built. If he leaves us alone long enough anyway. Guy doesn't know what a hammer looks like, but he keeps trying to give me tips on how to do my job better." He snorted, rolling his eyes, and stole her half-eaten toast, finishing it for her since he knew she wouldn't. "What about you? Who's coming in today?"

"Naomi's day off. Her daughter has a dentist appointment. Brandon's going to help load up inventory, so he'll be by in an hour or so. Annette's running the store this morning; she's trying to get a few extra hours in."

He hummed, nodding. "Kayla's in school?"

"She says she is. But I know she's been skipping a lot lately." Bonnie frowned, sipping her coffee. "She's a smart girl, but…"

"Troubled?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I don't know. She works hard. I like having her at the store. But her parents mentioned a few times that if she doesn't get her grades up, they won't let her keep working for me."

"Could be good, motivate her to go to school when she realizes she won't be allowed to come back."

"She's got a good head for it. She helped me with a few different recipes. She must've worked with this stuff when she was…" She trailed off.

"Alive?"

She sighed. "I try not to think about it too much, but I can't help it."

He shrugged. "I get it. Sometimes I see Naomi with her kids and I wonder how it happened… if they're even hers."

Bonnie stared at him over the table. "Do you think we're lucky? Knowing what we do?"

He stared back a long moment and then folded the paper up and put it aside. "We have each other, we're lucky that way. But knowing… I don't know. A gift as much as a curse probably."

Their eyes stayed on each other until a honk from outside broke the moment.

Damon blinked a few times, as if to pull him out of his serious haze, and then widened his eyes and stood from the table. "Work beckons." He stood from the table, grabbing his jacket off the back and pulling it on.

"Don't forget your lunch," she reminded.

"Yes, mom," he teased. Before she could argue, he ducked down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Chicken parm tonight. I'll see you at six."

She nodded.

"Have a good day," he called, taking his lunch and waving it at her as he walked out the door.

"You too!" she shouted back, staring at the closed door a moment before smiling to herself.

She really loved the mornings.

* * *

><p><strong> …<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon frowned, staring at shelf upon shelf of tampons. Vaguely, he listened to the tinny music coming in over the speakers; the pharmacy was pretty much dead. There were only three people working, and he was half sure the stock boy in aisle six had fallen asleep on the job. Digging around in the pocket of his jacket, Damon grabbed out his phone and hit one on his speed dial; it rang twice.<p>

"Let me guess, you can't remember which brand I said to get," Bonnie answered knowingly.

"Maybe. Kind of." He rolled his eyes. "Look, I wasn't expecting there to be so many. I know there's flowers on the box, 'cause I've seen them in the cupboard, but just about every damn box has flowers on them…" He tossed a frustrated hand up. "And then there's something about plastic or cardboard and… why am _I _doing this? Can we go over that again?"

The noise she made was pure exasperation. "_Because_, Damon, the Red Sea is currently destroying my insides. If you care about me at all, you'll get me a mountain of chocolate along with this small, tiny, _infinitesimal_ little task I'm asking of you. And then you'll come home and rub my feet and tell me I look pretty even though I look, and feel, like crap."

Damon pursed his lips, but nodded absently. "Yeah, fine, all of that. Just as soon as you tell me which one of these boxes I'm getting. And how many. Seriously, what's with the variety?"

"Does it matter?" she sighed.

"Not really." He shrugged. "Okay. Brand? And what kind of chocolate? Chop, chop." He snapped his fingers despite knowing she couldn't see him.

Ten minutes later, Damon walked out of the pharmacy, whistling to himself, a bag with tampons, three different kinds of chocolate, and a bottle of Midol in hand.

When he got home, Bonnie was laid up on the couch, heating pad on her stomach. She gave him a pitiful pout and he half-grinned, rolling his eyes at her. "My, my, Miss Bennett, have I mentioned how _ravishing _you look tonight?"

Her lips quirked up at the corners. "Very cute."

"I know I am and so are you." Closing the door behind him, Damon kicked his shoes off and tossed his keys in the general direction of the dish on the counter. "You want a back rub?" he asked, bringing the bag with him to the couch.

She brightened, sitting up properly. "And then a foot rub too? _Pleeease_…"

"You're pushing it," he said, taking a seat on the couch beside her.

Damon watched, amused, as she dug around in the bag, happily plucking a Caramilk bar and hugging it to her chest as she gave a happy sigh. "You're the best."

"You wanna repeat that?" he asked, cupping a hand behind his ear. "I don't get to hear it _nearly _enough."

She rolled her eyes at him and then turned herself away from him, looking back at him over her shoulder. "Wasn't I promised a back rub?"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "The things I do for you…"

Bonnie grinned. "Hey, if you're good, I'll share my chocolate with you."

"Who said all that chocolate was _yours?_"

Narrowing her eyes at him, she gathered the bag up into her lap. "No take-backs!"

He chuckled under his breath. "All right, fine. Keep your chocolate." He took her hips in hand and readjusted her so he could start massaging her back. "Just don't expect this to become a monthly thing…"

Bonnie snorted knowingly.

It definitely became a monthly thing.

* * *

><p><strong> …<strong>

* * *

><p>The delivery guy was flirting with her. He was cute too; tall, broad-shouldered, classically handsome, with a crooked smile that always made her grin in reply. Every few weeks, he arrived with a new batch of supplies for her store and had her sign off on them before he wheeled them into her home office.<p>

"You're early," Bonnie said, scribbling her signature down at the bottom. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour." Which was why she was still in her pajamas, her hair unbrushed, and her face noticeably lacking in make-up. Not that she dressed up for him or anything… Okay, fine, maybe a little bit. It was just nice was all, that little bit of attention he gave her.

"Yeah, sorry, we had someone cancel their usual order, so you got bumped up," Carl explained.

Bonnie shrugged. "It's fine. Just haven't had time to get ready." She wrinkled her nose.

He gave her a thorough look-over and offered that crooked grin. "I wouldn't worry about it." He leaned in to say in a jokingly conspiratorial voice, "Trust me, you pull the 'just rolled out of bed' thing off."

Bonnie blushed a little, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Well, um, thank you. I think."

"What are we thanking who for?" Damon piped up then, suddenly appearing by her side.

"Oh. Uh… Nothing." She turned to look at him, motioning in front of her. "Carl was just telling me he's early… What time's Danny going to be here?"

"Soon." Damon kept his eyes on Carl for a long moment and then asked, "You need help unloading that, or…?"

Carl jumped a little, glanced down at the boxes stacked on top of the dolly at this side, and shook his head. "Uh, no, that's fine, sorry. I should get these unloaded. I have a few other people to see this morning."

Damon stepped back out of the doorway and watched through narrowed eyes as Carl wheeled the dolly down the hall toward the office. Turning to Bonnie, he said, "He sure looks _familiar _with our house."

Bonnie pursed her lips at him. "He should, he's been stopping by every few weeks for three years now."

"And you just _let _him in, to wander around and _touch _things?"

"Damon, he walks to the office, stacks the boxes, and leaves. He's not hanging out to touch anything."

He arched his brows at her meaningfully. "Are you sure you don't _want _him to?"

Putting her hands on her hips, she demanded, "What's _that _supposed to mean?'

He frowned at her, letting out an annoyed breath, and then turned to walk back into the kitchen, grabbing up his mug of coffee to occupy his mouth with. Following after him, she stared at his back, reaching over to poke his shoulder irritably. "You can't just drop a snarky comment and then leave me in the dark."

Tapping his fingers on the counter, he turned around to face her. "You were _flirting _with him," he said, voice dripping with accusation.

Her mouth fell open. "I was _not!_"

"Oh, delivery-guy, I feel so exposed, you seeing me in my cute pajamas without any make up on, you must find me just _hideous_," he said, mimicking her, terribly, in a high-pitched voice.

"I didn't say that! And I don't sound like that," she told him, shaking her head.

"Close enough," he muttered, finishing off his coffee before he moved to the fridge, reaching inside and grabbing out his lunch.

Bonnie glared at the back of his head as he went through his lunch to make sure he had everything. The squeaking of the dolly briefly caught her attention as Carl came back out of the office.

"All right, that's all of it. I'll, uh, see you next month, Bonnie," Carl told her, waving his clipboard in farewell.

"Yes, thank you, Carl, have a good delivery day." She followed him to the door so she could close it behind him and raised her hand to wave as he made his way down the hill to his truck parked on the road.

"Thanks Carl," Damon said, mimicking her voice again. "Sure you don't want to call him back, see if he can put all those delivery-guy muscles to work?"

Bonnie inhaled deeply and let it out in a heavy breath. "I'm going to do you a favor and pretend this whole, weird, jealousy thing never happened." She threw her hands up and turned on her heel to leave.

"Jealous… Hey, I am _not _jealous of some lame delivery guy!" he called after her. "I have nothing to be jealous about!"

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to reply.

"_Bonnie!_"

Arms crossed over her chest, she looked back at him, only to find him standing awkwardly in the kitchen, his brow furrowed and his mouth set in a line.

"I…" He ground his teeth. "I don't like it. This is our _home_. I don't… I don't want to share it." The look on his face said a lot more than that, but he didn't give voice to those things. The "_Or you_" went unsaid.

Bonnie stared back at him, her anger of before evaporating as she stared at the conflicted but serious expression on his face. Her lips parted, to say what she had no idea, and then a horn honked outside.

Damon offered a tilted grin then. "That's my ride." He grabbed up his lunch and started for the door. "I'll see you tonight… I was thinking we might have lasagna… Sheila's recipe."

She relaxed then and smiled back. "Okay." As he reached for the door, she said quickly, "_Damon_."

He looked back.

She stared at him searchingly. "I would never…" She trailed off, chewing at her lip, and then said, "I respect our home. I… I _love _our home."

He kept his eyes locked on her for a few long seconds before he nodded. "Okay."

"Okay."

The horn honked again and he finally pulled the door open. "Have a good day at work."

"You too."

As he walked out the door, Bonnie watched him go, a heavy pressure in her chest that she wasn't quite sure she knew how to label. Swallowing the urge down, she instead put her focus on her newly delivery inventory. Sometimes denial was a good friend.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Ferris wheel!" she cheered happily, taking his hand and yanking him forward, demanding he follow her.<p>

They'd been at the carnival for at least an hour and Damon was more than ready to pack it in and go home. But Bonnie had been waiting for the line at the ferris wheel to die down since they'd gotten there and now it seemed it was at a tolerable length. They'd already been on just about every other ride the fair had to offer and they'd played enough games for him to learn he was much better when he had his vampire skills. Bonnie, on the other hand, had won him not one but _two _different teddy bears, and was more than a little smug about it. If he didn't know better, he would think she'd worked her witchy juju on the games, but she was still powers free, just like him, which probably made it all the more impressive.

Bouncing in place when they reached the front of the line, Bonnie tugged on the sleeve of his shirt so he would hand over the tickets for them to climb onto the ride. Despite himself, he was grinning at her enthusiasm and joined her in the little rocking seat, an arm tucked behind her as they started to rise.

They were halfway up when he noticed how tightly she was gripping the bar. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Are you scared?"

"Not… a _lot_…" she answered awkwardly.

"You've been looking forward to this ride ever since you heard the fair was coming to town," he reminded.

"It's a good kind of scared," she defended. "You get that swooping in your stomach because you're so high up and it's… _exhilarating_ and terrifying and weirdly fun. I don't know." She shrugged, leaning back, her shoulder pressed to his. "It's pretty up here and it feels a little like being suspended, you know. Floating, out of reach, not quite safe, but not totally unsafe either."

He watched her face as she talked and nodded a little. "Yeah… I get it."

She looked back at him, her mouth turned up at the corners.

She was beautiful, lit up by the lights of the ferris wheel, blinking and dancing all over her. Her hair had grown out and she'd pulled it up in a half pony tail, a few wisps having fallen out from all the rides they'd been on. Her eyes seemed brighter than usual, warm with excitement and joy.

"You got your camera?" he wondered.

"Always," she said happily, reaching for her bag and pulling out the old Polaroid camera to hand to him.

He turned a little in his seat and aimed it at her. She smiled readily, but then he purposely rocked their seat, grinning as panic hit her face suddenly, which was when he pressed down on the button.

"Damon!" she exclaimed, shoving his shoulder.

"Authenticity matters," he defended, handing her the camera while he waved the picture.

Bonnie rolled her eyes, but leaned over into him, her chin on his chest as she watched the picture, waiting to see how it looked.

The ferris wheel started to move again, filled up, slowly taking its full spin around. Bonnie turned her face to take in the fair grounds and far beyond, to the town square and the spattering of shops, hers included. Damon wrapped his arm around her and she leaned into him, head falling back to his shoulder. He tucked the picture of her into the pocket of his shirt and just enjoyed the ride. When they paused at the top, her hand reached for his, hanging over her shoulder, and she folded their fingers together. On top of the world, when his stomach swooped, he knew it had nothing to with how high up he was and everything to do with her. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he dug out a few more tickets, and when the ride stopped at the bottom, he paid for another go around. He could happily do it, again and again, just like this, for the rest of his afterlife.

* * *

><p><strong> …<strong>

* * *

><p>"Kayla?"<p>

The younger girl startled at her name and turned around abruptly to see Bonnie leaving the line-up of the bustling café, her wallet in hand. She stared at Kayla, her brow furrowed, and double-checked the time on her watch. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Swallowing tightly, Kayla sat back and sighed, slumping in her chair. She let her long hair fall over her face as she stared down at the tabletop in front of her.

Bonnie frowned knowingly and then nodded. "I think we need to talk."

Kayla bit her lip and shook her head. "Don't fire me. _Please_. I love working at the shop."

Taking a seat across from her, Bonnie sighed. "I don't _want _to fire you. But your parents have called me more than a few times. They're worried about your grades slipping, and so am I. School goes by a lot faster than you think. You have to start planning for your future now. I know it sucks and school's not fun, but… There's life after high school, trust me."

She nodded slightly. "I know. It's just… _hard_. I don't really have any friends and I always feel off, you know? Like I don't belong there… The only place I feel like I fit is in the shop."

"Well, what can we do to change that? Would it make it easier to do your homework at the shop, let you focus? Because you can use my office…"

Kayla shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know."

"Then let's try that. As for actual school… I can't do much about that. But you _do_ have to go."

She sighed, long and heavy, but nodded. "I guess."

Standing from her seat, Bonnie said, "Come on, I'll give you a ride in. I'll even let you pick the radio station."

Half-smiling, Kayla nodded, standing from her seat and pulling her backpack onto her shoulder.

As they walked outside to the car, Kayla reached for the handle, but paused. "Hey Bonnie?"

"Yeah?" she said, looking at her over the roof of the car.

"Thank you," she said, soft and sincere.

Bonnie smiled at her. "Any time."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Do you miss it?"<p>

Bonnie looked up from the candles she had spread out over the table in front of her, labels laid out and pen poised to write their names. "Miss what?" she wondered.

Damon stared at her from his perch on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table like she hated. "Your little witchy powers… All these candles, and you have to light them like normal people."

Her mouth turned up at the corners. "I plan on selling them, not lighting them."

Damon rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean…" He tossed his book to the cushion beside him and pushed up from the couch, making his way over to take a seat in the chair across from her, picking up the odd candle to give it a sniff before putting it back down.

"Hey," she complained, grabbing up the pear and putting it back with the others instead of the lemon and sage he'd put it with. "You did that on purpose."

"Guilty," he admitted freely, smirking.

Bonnie shook her head, focusing on her labels once more. "Yes. I do miss it," she finally told him. "I miss what it felt like and how… _connected _I felt to things. I miss feeling _unique_ in a way. But I _don't _miss all the bad stuff that came along with it."

"Hmm." He watched her, his hands stacked on the table. "Aren't you going to ask me?"

Her mouth twitched. "No. I already know you miss your powers. You complain all the time that it takes too long to get places and that compulsion made your life so much easier."

He nodded in a rather exaggerated fashion. "Yeah, that's true. Minor inconveniences, but annoying all the same. _Still_… there are perks to being human."

She raised an eyebrow curiously, handing him a few labels and a pen. "Like?"

He took them from her and dramatically wrote a few labels out. His calligraphy was much better than hers. "Food tastes better when you're human. When you're a vampire, the only thing that's _really _good is blood. Everything else you just kind of get used to, do it more out of habit or to keep up appearances. Speaking of, there aren't any unexpected cravings for B-positive, so I don't end up attacking my coworkers when I get a little hungry. Normal smell and hearing, both a positive and a negative. All these candles don't completely blow my brain up, but I also can't listen in on what the neighbors are doing just for kicks... Trade off, I guess."

Bonnie smiled. "Anything else?"

He hummed, turning his head up thoughtfully. "Well, I'm already dead, so the whole mortal/immortal pro/con thing is off the table…"

"Which means you're aging, too." She peered at him. "What are you, biologically, like… twenty-nine, now?"

"About that, yeah."

Her eyes lit up. "We should have a birthday party."

"What? _No_." He shook his head. "No. No way. Strangers all over the place, having to play nice, you know I don't like those things." He gave a dramatic shudder. "This is my sanctuary, Bonnie."

"Who said it has to be here? We could rent out a table at one of your favorite restaurants or something. Invite your workers and everyone from the shop and, _ooh_, Tom and Leslie too!" She bounced a little in her seat. "Come on, it'll be great! We never get to celebrate those things. I think we got so used to some big catastrophe happening that we never really enjoyed the little things, the _important _things… So? When is it? I'll start planning now and have everything ready. Seriously, I'll pull a Caroline and go full party-planner on it, you won't have to deal with one detail."

He stared at her a long moment and then dropped his gaze to the labels. "Yeah, uh, if that's what you wanna do, sure… It's June 28th. You wanna get technical, I'll be 177."

"Well, I'm not sure how well that'll go over with everyone else, but I'm sure I'll find a way to wiggle in your real age." She stared at him, his brow furrowed, and his attention set on the labels in front of him. "What? What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"No. I know that face. Something's bugging you."

"Nothing's bugging me. I'm just tired."

"Damon, you had a three hour nap today… Seriously, you slept in until noon, had a bowl of cereal, read your book for a while, and then just fell asleep."

"It was a busy week." He pushed up from his chair and moved into the kitchen. "I'm making tea, you wanna cup?"

"I want you to talk to me." Leaving the table, she followed after him. "Is this about your birthday? I know I got a little worked up, but if you really don't want to have a party, it's fine. We don't have to. We can order in dinner, I'll make dessert, a cake or a cupcake or something, and we can just hang out here, open a bottle of wine, and reminisce about 177 years of debauchery and fun…" She watched him, her back against the island counter, as he worked at making their tea, carefully avoiding eye contact. "_Damon_…"

He finally stopped, pressing his hands to the edge of the counter, and let out a long, heavy breath. When he turned to her, his eyes danced over her face, serious and focused and searching for… _something_. "This is what I like."

"What?"

"About being human." He stepped toward her, close enough that she had to tip her head a little to see him. "I like how much people care. That a birthday is important even though I've had 177 of them already. I like that there are people out there that find it significant and I like that _you _want to celebrate it, like it's actually _worth _celebrating despite two years of mistakes and screw ups that you probably never should have forgiven me for…

"And in a weird way, I even like that I look older than I did the day we got here. Because when you have nothing to lose, no end in sight, it's really easy to forget what's important and to get reckless and stupid and to make so many bad choices. But here, I don't do that… or at least, not as often. I still push my luck with you, mostly because it's fun and you're cute when you're angry, and I like it when you call me on my bullshit. But mostly, I'm just a human, toeing the line, and getting older, and it's… awesome and scary and I woke up this morning and I swear, I thought I saw a grey hair. It was a trick of the light, but _still_…"

He swallowed, staring down at her. "We can have the party, and we can invite our friends, and I'll even smile when they sing a really awful, off-key rendition of 'Happy Birthday.' But at the end of the day, when it's just you and me, that's when I'm happiest. Because I'm human, and you're human, and we're… human together."

Bonnie swallowed tightly, her lips parting, though she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say.

"Too sentimental?" he asked, grabbing up his bravado like a shield. "I should've just distracted you with tea or—"

He didn't get a chance to finish as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug, her face buried against his chest.

He went still, his arms slowly reaching up to wrap around her.

"Don't get used to it," she murmured. "I'm not going to hug you every time you have a little breakthrough coming to grips with your humanity." She turned her head, her cheek pressed to him. "But just so we're clear… You did a lot of things, things I don't agree with, or approve of, things I wish we could change… But I've forgiven you for some of that. We still need to talk about it, eventually. I know why you did some of it and I still don't think it was all worth it, but… You're my friend, Damon. You matter to me. Your life matters. So you _will _smile when we sing to you and when we eat cake and give you presents and when we celebrate having you in our lives. All right?"

He stroked a hand down the back of her head, settling it on the nape of her neck, and gave it a gentle, affectionate squeeze. When he leaned back, he reached down and tapped her nose. "All right."

She smiled up at him lightly. "I'll take that tea now…" As she let him go, she moved back around to the table. "And I still expect you to help me with these labels."

He rolled his eyes, sighing long and loud. "The things I do for you, Bonnie Bennett."

She grinned back at him over her shoulder and he smiled back, small but sincere.

It was enough.

* * *

><p><strong> …<strong>

* * *

><p>"Date night?" Naomi asked, looking over at Bonnie as she came out of the bathroom in a different outfit than she'd been wearing all day.<p>

"Yeah. Damon, being Damon, made the reservations for seven, which means I don't really have time to go home and get ready." She gave a little spin. "What do you think?"

"You'll knock his socks off, honey." Naomi winked at her. "Lucky guy you got there."

"I prefer to think she's the lucky one, but I can't argue," Damon's voice cut in as he crossed the store from the door. He gave a long, appreciative whistle and wiggled his eyebrows. "Looking even more beautiful than usual, Bennett." He reached for her hand and tugged her toward him, raising it so he could press a kiss to her knuckles. "Ready for dinner?"

"Dinner is a means to an end, Salvatore. I was promised dancing."

His mouth curled up in a smirk. "Sure your tiny little feet can take it."

Slapping her clutch against his chest, she said, "You just try and keep up, old man."

He laughed, low and throaty, and gave her a little spin, hugging her against his side before he started for the door.

"Thanks for closing up, Naomi," Bonnie said over her shoulder.

"Happy to, sweetheart. You have a good night!"

"Thanks, I plan to." Turning, she looked up at Damon as they left the shop. "So? Where are we going?"

"Dinner at Giovanni's and then it's a 60's theme night at the hall. It's too bad you don't have that cute go-go dress from before, but this'll do too."

Glancing down at her dress, she argued, "It's not even _close _to 60's style."

"You'll just have to make up for it in dance moves then." He shrugged. "It's either that or we turn on the radio at home. This town isn't exactly club central."

"60's dance hall it is." She leaned into his side. "Although I might just take you up on that radio later. At least at home I can go barefoot."

"Whatever strikes your fancy," he said, grinning down at her.

Bonnie smiled. "You say that now… Wait until you're the only one on my dance card."

He gave her a squeeze. "Looking forward to it."

* * *

><p><strong> …<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon's heart was in his throat.<p>

Naomi had called three times, but with all the noise of the tools going around him, he hadn't heard it. Finally picking up his phone on his lunch break, he checked his messages, only to get a frantic and worried one from Bonnie's store manager about an accident that resulted in Bonnie being taken to the hospital. Panic seized him then and he was quick to ask Danny to borrow his truck; the hospital was too far for him to go on foot.

The whole ride to the hospital, he was anxious. Naomi hadn't left much to go off of, just that Bonnie was hurt and he should head to the hospital or give them a call as soon as he could. Given all they'd been through in the past, and his long 177 years of experience, his mind went to the worst case scenarios first. What if it was fatal? Was that even possible? What if there were plains of death and she went to a different one, without him? What if he lost her? His hands squeezed tightly around the steering wheel and he had to swallow tightly.

Pulling into the parking lot of the hospital, he left the truck, parked a little crookedly, and ran inside, hurrying to the front desk. "Bonnie Bennett," he said without preamble. "She was injured at work, I… I don't know how. I just… Can you tell me where she is?"

"Are you family?"

"Am I… _Yes_. Kind of. We're together. It's…" He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. "Just tell me where she is, if she's okay, _something_."

"Damon!"

He turned abruptly to see Naomi standing just down the hall, a cup of coffee in hand.

Leaving the desk behind, he jogged toward her. "Where is she?" he demanded.

Naomi pointed to a room twenty feet ahead of her. "They just finished putting the cast on. We were in the waiting room for quite a while."

"The cast?"

She didn't have time to answer, however, as he'd already stepped inside to see Bonnie sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, cradling her arm to her chest, wearing a brand new, hot pink cast. The wave of relief that hit him nearly knocked his legs out from beneath him.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, crossing the room toward her. His hands cupped her face as he stared down at her searchingly. "You all right? What the hell happened?"

"I'm okay," she reassured, nodding. She reached up to cover one of his hands. "Honestly. It was just a dumb mistake. A light bulb went out and I figured I'd change it myself. I got out the ladder, climbed up there, and well… It was a little too close to the door and a customer walked in, and the rest is history… Knocked me right over. I landed on my arm funny, hence…" She glanced down, directing his attention to her cast.

"You're sure that's it? You didn't hit your head or anything?" He looked over her head, his hands sliding up, searching for a goose egg under her hair.

"Damon, I'm fine," she assured, catching one of his wrists with her fingers. "Honestly, the only thing that's bruised is my pride. It was embarrassing."

"I don't care how embarrassing it was." He brought his arm around her and pulled her in close, her face buried against his chest. "I got that call and I thought…" He swallowed tightly, closing his eyes.

Bonnie wrapped her arm around him carefully, her other hand gripping the front of his shirt. "It's okay. I'm fine."

He nodded, but kept her wrapped up in his arms, his face falling to bury at her neck. It was a few minutes before he let go, and even then it had more to do with the doctor arriving than anything else. Bonnie was given a clean bill of health other than her cast and was told she could go home. If there were any other complications, she should come in immediately, but they were pretty sure it was just the arm and that it would heal just fine in time.

Damon kept his arm around her waist as he walked her out of the hospital.

"Don't you have to get back to work?" she wondered.

"Yeah. I need to bring Danny's truck back. Look, get Naomi to bring you back to the store. I'll meet you there and we can go home."

"Damon, honestly, I'm fine. I have a lot to do at the store and—"

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, and she cut herself off, staring up at him.

"I thought I lost you, Bonnie…" His voice was thick, and he swallowed tightly. "I can't just go back to work and pretend that didn't scare five years off my afterlife all right?"

She stared up at him and, after a moment, nodded. "Okay."

"Okay." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering a long moment, and then he let her go, and walked her to Naomi's waiting Volkswagen. He helped Bonnie into the passenger seat and reached past her to do up her seat belt before he stepped back, closing the door behind her. "Twenty minutes, all right?"

She nodded.

After the car left, he made his way over to the truck and started back for the work site. The whole ride there, a little voice repeated, over and over, "_She's okay, she's okay, it's okay, she's okay_."

Five years ago, he could remember deciding that, if it came down to it, he could sacrifice the witch. There was no love lost between them and, if it came down to it, he would trade her life for Elena's. Things were different now. Dramatically so. The mere thought of losing Bonnie was… terrifying to him. Not because he would be left alone, but because he wouldn't have her there, and he didn't want to know what that was like. He never wanted to know what that felt like. So he wouldn't. He vowed, then and there, he didn't care what it took, he'd keep his little witch alive and well. And his. Always his.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"How's Bonnie doing?" Danny wondered. "She still bitching she can't do anything with her cast?"<p>

Damon snorted. "She had me do the books for her last night. She leaned over my shoulder and corrected everything I did. Felt like I was in school again…" He frowned. "I _hated _school."

"How much longer until it comes off?" Chris asked, topping off each of their glasses with the pitcher of beer he'd bought.

"Two more weeks, tops. She can't wait. I think she marked it down on the calendar." He smiled, amused. "She's driving Naomi nuts, too. Bonnie's getting her to do everything she can't at the store, which, apparently, is a lot."

"Yeah, Brandon said she's been a bit more stressed lately," Chris offered.

"I've got it covered. Tomorrow's her day off and I've got it all planned out. Naomi's going to talk her into a spa day and then I'll pick her up after, take her for dinner and a movie, run her a hot bath, give her a massage, she'll be stress free," he boasted, tipping his beer back.

"Cheers, brother," Danny said. "Now that we got _your_ lady problems figured out, why don't you two help me figure mine out?"

"Carla still talking about having a baby?" Chris asked, half-grinning.

"No, not baby. _Babies_. Plural. Like, a bucket load of 'em." He shook his head as they laughed. "I don't have the income for that. Hell, I don't have the income for _one_. And besides, we're not married yet. I always kind of pictured the whole thing before I settled down, y'know?"

"You said 'yet'…" Damon pointed out, eyebrow raised. "Meaning you're planning on marrying her eventually."

Danny sighed, sitting back in his seat. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"I call godfather to at least one of those brats," Chris said. "The cutest one, obviously."

"Keep the cute one, I want the smart one," Damon decided. "She can help her uncle hit it big and retire. Me and Bonnie can live it up in some mansion on the hill and I'll rent the house out to rowdy college kids."

"Still feuding with Gladys?" Danny asked, eyebrow quirked.

His mouth screwed up with distaste and then brightened abruptly. "I'm thinking of starting a garage band… Something _loud_ and _angry_." He looked between them, smirking. "Who's interested…?"

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>Happy birthday to you… and many moooore…<em>"

Damon was the loudest singer of them all; Bonnie was pretty sure he could make a competition out of anything.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes darted around to all the familiar faces surrounding the table. She felt a tiny bit embarrassed by the attention, but, at the same time, incredibly grateful. The cake in front of her was covered in brightly burning candles. She leaned forward, inhaling deeply, and paused, smiling up at Damon as he caught her hair, pulling it behind her so it wouldn't fall into the icing or the flames. He nodded his chin forward and she turned back, looking down at the flickering candle flames. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and made her wish. Abruptly, she blew out her candles, turning her head side to side to get them all. All but one went out, a single candle still burning triumphantly, and she gave it one last blow to add it to the rest.

Naomi reached over then, pulling the cake in her direction to take out all the candles and put them on a little pink paper plate.

The others were talking, a collection of voices filling the room, and Bonnie sat back with a smile, watching them all. Her friends, her employees, people she cared about and who cared about her back. When her eyes burned, she wanted to blame it on the leftover smoke from the candles, but a part of her was blindingly sad that two specific faces weren't added to the mix, while another part of her was just so happy that she had these people with her.

A hand fell to her shoulder, squeezing gently, and Bonnie turned, looking up to see Damon half-smiling down at her. She rested her chin atop his hand for a moment and let her eyes fall to half-mast. She didn't have Caroline or Elena and there was a good chance she never would again. That made her heart ache; it made it clench and burn. But they were okay, they were alive, and they would want her to be happy. Especially today.

So she blinked back her tears, reaching up to swipe quickly beneath her eyes, and then she turned a bright smile on her friends. She accepted the knife Naomi offered and started cutting up the cake to serve out slices to everyone, including Naomi's and Annette's kids, who were running around, playing tag and hide n' seek until cake became a very real option. She handed out each slice and watched the kids scurry off with icing beards.

Forking up a bite of her own, she watched as Damon threw his head back, laughing at whatever he, Chris and Danny were talking about, and something warm settled in her chest.

"So? What'd you wish for?" Naomi wondered.

Bonnie turned, smiling at her close friend. Sincerely, she answered, "Peace."

Naomi bumped her shoulder with hers. "Of the world variety or…?"

"No. Nothing that big. Maybe I'm selfish, but… I just want it for myself."

"We should all want a little peace in or lives," she agreed. "We never really enjoy it when we have it, but you better believe we recognize we need it when it's gone."

Bonnie nodded agreeably. "Definitely. Which is why I'm going to make more of an effort to appreciate what I have. Starting now. Today. No more waiting for the ball to drop or telling myself to relax later. I want peace and I can have it."

Humming, Naomi raised a thoughtful brow. "Is it really a wish if you create it for yourself?"

"Maybe it's more of a promise then, to me."

"Doesn't that take the magic out of it?"

Bonnie grinned. "Realizing I need to give myself a break is probably a miracle, so if anything, I think we can say that's magic enough."

Naomi smiled. "All right then." She reached over, hugging an arm around Bonnie's shoulders. "Well, I can't say I disagree. You deserve a break. Sometimes I look at you and all I see is a giant ball of stress. Where it comes from, I don't know, but I'm always here if you want to talk about it. You know that, right?"

Bonnie rested her head against Naomi's affectionately. "I do. And I might just take you up on that one day."

"Good."

"Who's ready for presents?" Annette suddenly exclaimed.

With that, the party got back on track and Bonnie purposely put any melancholy feelings about the two people she most wanted to be there to the back of her mind. She had to focus on the here and now; it was time to let go of her guilt and her regret and accept that this was life and it could be amazing if she would let it.

Happy birthday to her.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Of course, as soon as Bonnie asked for peace, the world offered her the opposite…<p>

She was searching the bookshelves for nothing in particular. It was her day off and she planned on relaxing on the couch with a good book, preferably something that she hadn't read before. Considering the sheer volume of books they owned, that looked like a very real possibility. What she found instead was nothing she'd ever expected. Spine after spine, new and old, she dismissed some on title alone, and others out of familiarity, and then, she found her fingers lingering on a faded brown spine, no title to be seen, but a very familiar split that curved up from the bottom. The book was worn, well used, and increasingly familiar.

Bonnie's fingers began to shake as she very slowly pulled it from the shelf. There was no title on the front, no embellishments. It was simple, old, and very, _very_ important.

A tear tripped down her cheek as she slumped down to her knees, opening the cover and letting her palm rest over the front page of thick, aged parchment. It took her a few moments to gather herself. She flipped through the pages, looking over each spell with affection, a smile turning up one corner of her mouth. Her family grimoire was heavy in her lap, but in the best way possible. For a few minutes, all she could think about was how good it felt to have something so intrinsically hers right there in front of her. She'd been separated from home, from her powers, for so long.

She frowned then. As far as she knew, her powers were still very much gone. She'd long stopped trying to use them, but even without that, she just knew. She could feel their absence. The part of her that was connected to the spirits, to the earth, to her abilities, it was hollow, like a well inside her that couldn't be filled. And it still felt that way. Even now, even holding the book that offered her any number of possibilities, she could feel the absence of her powers like a gaping hole in her gut.

Despite knowing that, however, she immediately started trying to use her powers. She focused on the candle on the coffee table, stared at it with all of her attention, with every fibre of herself, and she said with complete authority, "_Incendia_."

She waited, hopeful, determined, but nothing. Not a twitch, not a flicker, nothing.

Bonnie tried again.

She tried over and over again. She searched her grimoire for the simplest of spells, but nothing worked. Nothing happened.

She had her grimoire and nothing she could use it for.

Biting down on her lip, she shook her head, dropping her gaze down to the book in front of her. And she couldn't help but wonder, "What are you here for?"

[**Next**: Chapter Five.]

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>: _so there's definitely a lot more hints toward romantic feelings in this one, but as you can see, there's a bit of a hitch in the situation with the arrival of the grimoire. this was the other mystery I mentioned in the previous chapter. it's also going to cause some tension with bonnie and damon, for reasons you'll understand next chapter._

_thank you so much for reading! I'm so happy to read each and every one of your reviews and to see how much you're enjoying the journey so far!_

_please leave a review if you can! they really keep me going!_

_thanks,_

**- lee | fina **


	5. liar, liar

**V.**

* * *

><p><strong> FOUR YEARS<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie couldn't count on all of her fingers and toes how many arguments she and Damon had between them. Since the moment he set foot into her life, his sole purpose seemed to be to cause havoc. Havoc that she always ended up having to clean up in some way. Usually at the cost of her time and energy, her <em>life<em>, expending her magic while he made snarky comments and put her down, with his crazy eyes and eager to kill fang-face. And when they got stuck in this alternate reality, that hadn't changed. Not right away. They had been better, learning to rely on and trust each other, to see each other as people first and not as a means to an end. But the fights could still be harsh, still make her bristle, her very bones shaking with righteous fury. Eventually, that anger became little more than irritation. Those fights were no longer a matter of life or death so much as the average, bicker-type arguments that happened to regular people. People who weren't vampires or witches, who weren't looking around every corner for the next problem. Their arguments nowadays never ended with her in tears, frustrated or otherwise. They didn't end in her giving him an aneurysm or magically throwing him away from her. And they didn't end in her nearly having her throat torn out by his teeth.

More often than not, their fights ended with sighing or eye-rolling or her turning on her heel and walking away, needing space, usually holing up in her office while she tried to get some perspective. Ending was subjective, though. Because it wasn't so much an 'end' as it was a 'pause.' A pause until a Damon-like apology or a Bonnie-esque compromise could be made.

When it was Damon apologizing, it meant not _actually _apologizing…

The knock at the office door was tentative.

Still a little steamed, Bonnie pursed her lips, her chin set stubbornly.

He sighed, his head clunking against the door. "Bonnie, c'mon, it's been two hours… What're you gonna do? Set down roots, have take-out delivered through the window?"

She rolled her eyes.

"I know you're rolling your eyes at me, but that was a legitimate question. You haven't eaten since breakfast. I know you skipped lunch because you didn't touch last night's leftovers and you _love _ravioli…"

Her traitorous stomach rumbled and she glared down at it. Now was not the time for weakness!

He tapped his finger on the door. "It's half-off wing night at Sadie's… We haven't gone out in a while and I know you love their hot wings…"

She twisted her mouth to the side, her eyes turned off, considering his offer.

"We can play a game of darts, share a pitcher, I _might _even let you win at pool."

She snorted, and then quickly covered her mouth, hoping he didn't hear her.

"I heard that," he sing-sang.

"I _sneezed_," she told him stubbornly.

He sighed, long and loud. "Fine. Be like that. I'll just have to eat your wings too. With extra hot sauce on the side, maybe a basket of onion rings."

"You don't even _like _their onion rings," she told him, turning at the waist to frown at the closed door.

"See! If you don't come, who knows what I'll do!"

Shaking her head, she bit down on her lip to hide a smile. "This doesn't mean you're off the hook. I'm still mad at you! You can't just go out and buy a car on a _whim_, Damon!"

"Hey, that car was practically _screaming _my name! It's a _mustang_, Bonnie! And it was on sale. For a _steal_, too. It was like some cosmic force said, 'Hey, Damon, I know you're missing your car and Bonnie is _rudely _hoarding her car for herself, so why don't you buy this sweet ride here and fix her up!'"

"Emphasis on 'fix-up'! That car's a piece of junk and you know it!" she called back.

"It's a _classic_! And you say that now, but you wait until I'm done with it. It'll be a piece of _art!_"

"Mm-hmm…" She raised an unconvinced eyebrow and shook her head.

"Look, maybe I should've talked to you ahead of time… Mostly because we share a bank account, not so much because I can't make my own life choices. Because I'm an adult, a very _old _adult, who is used to making decisions about his life on his _own_, without _input_, and who doesn't generally like having somebody else weigh in on those choices…"

She paused then, looking back to the door, and very slowly pushed up from the floor, walking over.

"_But_, we do make those choices together now, and we share everything, so maybe next time… I'll talk to you."

Chewing her lip, she reached out and turned the door handle, swinging it open to find him leaning in front of her, a half-smirk turning up his mouth.

"That's all I ask," she said.

He smiled down at her, brows hiked. "Pretty you sure ask for a _lot _more than that, but that's fine…" He leaned in and stared her in the eye. "I _forgive _you."

Scoffing, she shoved his chest. "_Whatever_…" Walking past him, she made her way down the hall. "You're buying the wings."

He rolled his eyes and followed after her. "Joint banking account, remember?" He hip-checked her.

Stumbling, she glared at his back, but her lips were curled up in amusement. "So it can come out of your car fund. Because you're going to have one. A strict one. One that doesn't interrupt us paying bills and the mortgage and _definitely _isn't coming out of our date-night jar."

He made a 'yap-yap-yap' motion with his hand, but grabbed her jacket off the coat rack and held it out for her. "_Deal_."

Sliding her arms through the sleeves, she smiled as he pulled her hair out of the back for her. "Shake on it?" She held out a hand.

He half-grinned, took her hand, and spun her in a circle under his arm. When she came to a stop, she was laughing, and he hung his arm over her shoulder. "Think of it this way, when it's all done and in mint condition… I'll take you out on the town. Me and you. We'll paint it red."

Nodding up at him, she said, "Looking forward to it."

Sometimes the words 'I'm sorry' were necessary, but more often than not, she knew that Damon's way of apologizing was more action oriented, and she could accept that.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"What's this?"<p>

Kayla looked up from her Trig homework, pure embarrassment covering her face. "Nothing!" she said, her voice a little off-pitch as she reached forward and grabbed the colorful flyer right out of Bonnie's hands. "It's nothing, it's stupid."

"Doesn't look stupid." Bonnie peered down at it, a little crumpled in Kayla's hand. "Looks like a pretty fun dance class…"

Shoulders slumped, Kayla glanced at her and then away. "You dance?"

"I was a cheerleader in high school, and before that, I used to do hip-hop at a dance studio. I even taught a few classes."

Chewing her lip, Kayla asked, "Really?"

"It was a lot of fun." Bonnie nodded. "Good music, great workout, and it definitely helps with your coordination." She eyed her thoughtfully. "Were you thinking about joining?"

Shrugging, she said, "I don't know. Maybe…" She turned her eyes down to the notebook in front of her. "There's a girl in my class who does it. She said I should check it out, gave me the flyer."

"Yeah? Well, why don't you?" Bonnie reached for the paper and took it from Kayla's hesitant hand. She smoothed it out and put it down in front of her. "It's on Thursday nights, doesn't start until after we close, that gives you plenty of time…"

Kayla stared down at it, her brow furrowed. "Would you… Do you wanna try it out with me?" she asked hopefully, looking up at her, brows quirked. "You don't have to sign up. Maybe just go with me the first night. If you want…"

Bonnie looked at her and then down at the paper, before finally smiling. "You know what, yeah. That'd be a lot of fun. I haven't danced in a while and I was just telling Naomi that I need to find something fun to do. So, sure. I'll check it out with you."

Kayla grinned then. "That's… Yeah. Cool. Okay. So, we'll go Thursday. And… you can meet Lisa. She's the girl that gave me the flyer."

"Lisa, huh?" Bonnie smiled knowingly. "What's she like?"

Kayla groaned, dropping her eyes back to her homework. "Whatever. She's nice, okay?"

"Yeah? Is she smart…? Funny…? _Pretty?_" Bonnie nudged.

Flushed, Kayla rolled her eyes at her. "Quit fishing." She grabbed up her pencil then. "I have _homework_…"

With a laugh, Bonnie nodded. "Fine. Do your homework." She turned and walked away then, smiling to herself.

She hadn't planned to spend her Thursdays dancing, but it could be nice. She'd missed dancing since she gave it up, too busy with cheerleading. It could be good to get back to basics.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon took the bottle of water from Chris as he passed it to him before taking a seat on the stool beside him. "You know, I remember this being a lot less work the last time I fixed up a car," he admitted.<p>

Chris shrugged. "Was your last one this bad?"

"Shhh!" Damon said, waving a hand at him before he glanced at the door leading from the garage into the house. "Don't let Bonnie hear you. I told her it was coming along. She's already nagged my ear off about buying this car in the first place."

"Did cost you a pretty penny," Chris noted, taking a pull from his water.

Damon winced. "It was a good deal."

"You didn't even bargain."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I was desperate. Is that what you want to hear? I'm used to having my own car. And Bonnie's car makes my soul hurt." His lip curled in a sneer. "Compact hybrid..."

Laughing under his breath, Chris shook his head. "At least it runs."

"Hey, the 'stang will run… Eventually…" He pursed his lips. "Just needs a little more TLC." He stood then, tossing a dirty rag over his shoulder as he walked to his car and bent over the engine. "And I am the _king _of tender loving care."

A snort from the doorway caught his attention then and he turned to see Bonnie leaning there, arms crossed over his chest. "_Well_, King Damon, why don't you do your queen a favor and go pick up some milk." She tossed her keys to him, which he caught instinctively. "We're all out, which I didn't know because _someone _put the empty jug back into the fridge." She raised her eyebrow at him before turning on her heel to walk away.

"It was three in the morning, I was half asleep, don't give me that judgy face," he shouted after her.

"No excuse!" she called back.

Grumbling under his breath, he sighed, and then looked to Chris. "Coming or staying?"

He shrugged as he stood. "I need to pick up something for dinner anyway. Brandon's at his sister's and it's my night to cook."

Nodding, Damon walked off to the dreaded compact hybrid, offering a sarcastic smile to Bonnie, who waved at him from the kitchen window. He was half sure she did these things just to bug him. Just to show her, he was coming home with chocolate milk. _In her face_.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>More than a month had passed and Bonnie still hadn't told Damon about her grimoire. Five and a half weeks of lying to him, telling him she was going out with Naomi or Annette when really she was at home, or holed up in the back of her store, anywhere she could have privacy to try desperately to make her powers activate. She assured herself it was purely because she didn't want to get his hopes up, but that didn't stop the thick rope of guilt that wrapped itself around her each time she waited for him to go out so she could sneak it out of its hiding spot and spend some time examining it, pushing herself to use her latent powers. And they <em>were<em> latent. She refused to believe they were gone completely. She just needed a trigger; something that would spark them back to life.

She started with the candles, and then she tried floating feathers, but nothing worked. She read her grimoire from front to back, again and again. She looked for some sign, some _reason _that they were there, that she would have her grimoire and yet no way of using it, even a squiggle in the margins would do, but there was nothing. Not from her Grams, not from anyone. She was just a powerless witch with a powerful book, and the fear that her whole world could crumble around her at any second.

She wondered sometimes how he would react. If she told him she had the grimoire, would he be happy? Would he be eager to go home without a backwards glance? Could she even hold it against him if he was?

Some days, she wondered why she was trying so hard. Was it get home? To see Elena and Caroline? Was it because she knew that was what she _should _want, or because it was what she _actually _wanted? She couldn't lie to herself. Her life here was much easier than it had been. She had friends that never asked more of her than she was willing to give. She had her dance class on Thursdays, something she didn't even know she missed until she started doing it again. She had her routines with Damon, their mornings and his dinners and their date nights. She had her shop. Her _amazing _shop. And, more than anything, she had _peace_. There was no abrupt, unnecessary death. No evil villain of the week. No _only _needing her for her powers.

Yes, there was a little bitterness there. Because damn it, she had a life too! She deserved to live her life. She was young, but some days she'd felt like she was eighty; old and drained. And she'd felt underappreciated; like, as much as her friends loved her, they needed her abilities more than they needed her. That wasn't the case here. Here, she had friends that loved her, that would never ask more of her than she was willing to give. But then, hadn't she always been willing to give everything Elena or Caroline or any of them asked for? Hadn't she _willingly_ stepped into the line of fire, ready to die if that was what it took? Martyrdom did not feel as good as books made it out to be.

Still, as much as her life had been difficult, as much as her friends didn't always see what kind of toll their needs took on her, Bonnie still wanted to live. She wanted to go home and see them and have a chance at life again. She wanted to see the world; to travel outside of the narrow confines of Mystic Falls and Virginia. She wanted to fill her passport up with every amazing place she would visit and experience to the fullest.

She deserved that, didn't she?

She just had to wonder…

At what cost.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>Catch!<em>"

Bonnie looked up too slow and something slapped into her chest. "Ow! What the hell, Damon!"

His lips quirked.

Grabbing up the bottle he'd tossed, she raised an eyebrow. "Why, _exactly_, are you throwing lotion at me?"

"Your elbows are getting dry again. I know, 'cause you keep rubbing them," he said simply. "It's a thing you do."

"And this was your polite way of pointing that out?" she said, but still rolled her sleeves up and opened the bottle. "Should I thank you?"

He snorted. "Hey, you're the one that complains when they hurt. I'm just heading off a problem before it happens. Shouldn't you be praising my problem solving skills?"

"For pointing out my dry elbows? No, thank you." She squeezed out a dab of lotion in her palm and rubbed it into her elbow before doing it to the other side too. "Better?" she asked him, holding each elbow up for him to see.

He rolled his eyes, but crossed the room, and bent to press a kiss to each of her arms. "Yes. _Much_," he said, before grabbing up the bottle and walking off down the hall.

Bonnie watched him go for a moment, her brow furrowed, wondering when it was he'd started picking up on things like that. He was a lot more observant than she came him credit for. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the magazine in her lap and flipped the page. Despite trying to focus, however, she couldn't quite get the smile turning up her lips to _stop_.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"So? Do I get to come and watch sometime?" Damon asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.<p>

She looked over at him, her feet in his lap. "What, so you can ogle all the dancers? I'm not subjecting anyone to that."

He rolled his eyes. "Who cares about them? I want to see some Bonnie Bennett moves… Hips don't lie kind of stuff." He winked at her. "I'll bring the camera, you bring the noise."

She laughed, shaking her head at him. "_No_. No way."

He squeezed her ankle lightly. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed…" Looking up at her, he quirked his head curiously. "I've seen you cheer, Bon-Bon. I know what kind of rhythm's going on."

"Then you don't need a front row seat to my dance class," she dismissed him, turning her nose up in the air dramatically.

He smirked at her. "Need? No. Want? _Yes_."

Bonnie scoffed at him. "Too bad. It's an all-girls' class. No boys."

He hummed, raising a brow at her. "Is that a challenge?"

"_Damon_," she said, half-laughing, half-warning.

He merely grinned at her.

One week later, Bonnie looked up, sweaty and flushed, finishing a particularly difficult move, and heard a sharp whistle, followed by clapping. When she looked over, Damon was grinning at her, wiggling his fingers in hello, their Polaroid camera in one hand. Despite herself, a little part of her was actually happy he'd seen that. She was feeling pretty proud of that last move. If it meant listening to him recount the night and playfully dancing across the parking lot as he walked her to her car, she could handle it. Especially since she could tell the pride on his face was all for her, and it was completely genuine.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>The lying was getting to her.<p>

She wasn't used to keeping things from him. And the longer it went on, the more terrible she felt. But she couldn't stand it. She couldn't take it if she showed him the book and he got excited, only to find out she couldn't do it. She was useless. She couldn't have him throw it in her face, not like he used to.

So she kept it a secret and she kept trying. She tried until the frustration made her break down in tears, ready to tear her hair out. The hollow inside her, where her magic used to be, never felt so big before. And the worst part was, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to talk to him about how it hurt, how _wrong_ it felt to be disconnected from her magic, but she couldn't. Not now, not with so much on the line.

She bit her tongue instead, and she kept pushing, harder and harder. And with each failure, she felt it like a wound to her spirit.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>The first dizzy spell hit her at work. She was stocking the shelves and she stood up too fast; it hit her suddenly and her knees went weak. She fell, scrambling to grab one of the shelves as she went. She knocked over a whole line of vitamins and landed hard on her knees.<p>

"Are you okay?" a worried Annette asked, coming to kneel beside her, a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," Bonnie promised, but her head was still spinning and her eyes wouldn't quite focus. "Just stood up too fast. It's okay."

"Are you sure?"

Bonnie blinked her eyes; her vision cleared and her head stopped spinning. She smiled at Annette. "Really. I'm fine. I just had my head buried in boxes for too long and when I stood up, it threw my equilibrium off."

Annette hesitated, but eventually smiled. "Okay." She still put a hand at Bonnie's elbow and helped her stand, waiting to make sure Bonnie had her feet under her. When she could walk just fine and didn't have another dizzy spell all day, both she and Annette wrote it off as just one of those things.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"One of the guys I was working with today said his dog just had a litter… Puppies will be ready to go home in a couple months," Damon said from the bathroom, his words muffled as he brushed his teeth.<p>

Bonnie rolled her eyes as she turned the bed down. "We're not getting a dog," she told him, exasperated.

The tap ran and the noise of his brush hitting the cup followed before he turned the light off and walked down the hall to meet her in their room. "Why not? You _love _dogs. Every time Naomi brings Rufus to visit the store, you gush about it at dinner. Can hardly get you to shut up."

"Yeah, I do, but if we got a dog now, it'd be home all day, with nobody to spend time with it." She pointed a finger at him. "Face it, the only reason you want a dog is because it'll annoy Gladys. That's not fair to the dog, or me, since I'll be the one cleaning up after it and trying to smooth things over with her every time she comes over to complain." She wrinkled her nose as she mimicked their neighbor, "'Your husband keeps banging the trash lid when he takes out the garbage. He has no regard for others.'"

"In her defense, I _do_ bang the lids. Mostly because I know she's listening," he said, shrugging at her glare. "She's nosy. I wouldn't do it if she didn't make such a big deal about it."

"Damon, she's old. Old and lonely and probably has nothing better to do than see what other people are doing."

He scowled. "I bet the caretakers cheered when she died in some smelly elderly home."

"_Damon_," she chastised. "That's awful."

He shrugged. "_She's _awful. You don't see her glaring at us? You don't even do anything wrong. She hates you on principle."

"What principle is that?" Bonnie wondered, a brow raised.

He pursed his lips. "Nothing. Never mind." He crawled into bed then and shoved his arm back over his pillow as he laid down, frowning up at the ceiling.

Bonnie followed after him, turning out the lamp beside her before she settled.

It was a few minutes of quiet before she said, "You don't have to protect me, you know."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. "What do you mean?"

With a sigh, Bonnie turned onto her side. "Damon, I know Gladys is racist. I know she doesn't like us because you're white and I'm black."

Shaking his head, he turned over to face her. "If you know then why do you keep telling me to be nicer?" he wondered.

"Because. You don't need to meet her on her level. She's a bitter old lady who has nothing in her life. Trust me, I'm a winner by default."

His brow furrowed.

"Damon, I grew up in Virginia, in a predominantly white town. I know racism; I've seen it every day. I did my best to fit in and fly under the radar because there's only so much you can do living in a city with too many ties to the wrong side of the civil war."

He was quiet for a moment before he told her, "I was a confederate soldier. Back in 1863…" He paused. "Not because I believed in it. I don't know if I even really cared. I was… young. And I grew up in a society that never really questioned those things. I was conscripted, and I went because my father demanded it. Said if I didn't go, I'd be shaming our family name…" He smiled sarcastically. "I was pretty good at that. Still am… I wasn't in the war long. Saw too much, _did _too much, and then I ran home, tail between my legs, and pretended like everything was fine… Wasn't too long later that I met Katherine and the rest is history." He shook his head, letting out a long sigh. "I'll never know what it feels like, not really. I'm white, I benefit, I know that. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to let her, I don't care how old she is, get away with acting like she's better than you." He reached for her, his hand resting atop her cheek, thumb stroking gently. "Even if all I get out of it is vaguely annoying her for the rest of her afterlife, I'll take it. Every chance I get."

She stared at him, mouth turned up faintly. "Why does the idea of you being a mild irritation to someone for eternity not surprise me at all?"

He grinned then. "I prefer to think of myself as a _medium _irritation. Over the years, I'll slowly increase. Subtly though."

She snorted, shaking her head. "Fine. But we're still not getting a dog."

He harrumphed, but then brightened up a little. "So, I've been talking to the guys about a garage band… What're your thoughts?"

Pushing his hand over her face, she turned over onto her back. "_Go to sleep_."

He chuckled under his breath, but got comfortable. "I didn't hear a 'no'…"

She purposely didn't answer, merely closing her eyes and trying to even out her breathing.

The following week, Damon grinned up at her from a keyboard he'd moved into the garage. "Did you know Danny could play the drums?"

She didn't, but she learned very quickly that Sundays were not a day she needed to be home. Leaving to meet up with Annette and Naomi, she happily waved at Gladys as she drove blissfully away from the noise.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>The headaches started after a late night of attempted, and failed, spell casting. Damon was out with Danny and Chris, so she had much of the night to herself. When her head started throbbing, she knew it was time to put the book away and get some sleep. The headache persisted, however, into the next day. She was in the middle of her shower when she realized her nose was bleeding. It stopped shortly after, but the headache was one and off all day.<p>

It happened again three days later.

She tried drinking more water, taking Tylenol, taking naps, but it persisted.

Her only option was to stop trying to use her magic, just until her body healed from the exertion. Just because she wasn't accomplishing anything didn't mean she wasn't trying too hard.

So she put her grimoire away for a week and a half; it took three days before her headache went away, but she took another week off and let herself recoup. On the eleventh day, she tried again.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie could eat every bite of ice cream in the tub currently in her lap. Damon didn't doubt that. That didn't mean he was going to let her get away without sharing.<p>

"I thought half that tub was mine. You're putting a pretty good dent into it."

Bonnie frowned at him, licking her spoon clean. "You don't even like this kind."

"I like it just fine," he argued.

She rolled her eyes. "Damon, you hate walnuts. It's maple walnut ice cream. How do you think this is going to go?"

He shrugged, stubbornly. "I can eat around them."

She blinked at him. "No. There's a perfect ice cream to walnut ratio. If you eat too much ice cream and not enough walnut, then _I _get too much walnut."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Then why did you get maple walnut? Huh, Bonnie? If you knew I didn't like walnuts…"

Scooping up a large bite, she stuck it in her mouth, and hummed happily.

He scowled at her. "_Rude_."

Rolling her eyes, she pointed at the fridge with her spoon. "There's mint chocolate chip. Just for you."

He smiled then, hopping off the couch.

"Baby," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that. And now I'm not sharing _any_ of mine with _you_." He retrieved it from the fridge and rejoined her on the couch, landing hard just to jar her.

"Fine," she said, raising her nose in the air petulantly.

Reaching over, he knocked his spoon against hers in cheers and then dug into his ice cream.

Bonnie, her mouth full, looked over at him. "We should probably take up jogging…"

Damon sighed. "I miss my vampire metabolism."

She rolled her eyes. "All you ate was blood. What was there to work off?"

He shrugged. "Bourbon?"

With a snort, she reached over and stole a bite of his ice cream. "You look fine."

He fluttered his eyelashes at her as he smiled. "You really think so?"

With a laugh, she shook her head at him. "Shut up."

Damon reached over and stole a bite of hers in retaliation, but then paused, frowned, and spat out a walnut, his mouth screwed up in distaste.

Smirking, she sing-songed, "Told you so…"

He filled his mouth with mint chip to clean away the taste of disappointment.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>One minute she was dancing, laughing, enjoying herself, and the next she was blinking her eyes open to see a sea of worried faces leaning over her as she lay sprawled on the dance studio floor.<p>

She closed her eyes for a second and reached a hand up to her forehead. "I'm fine," she breathed out. "Really."

"Why don't we give her some space, everybody," the instructor said, ushering everybody away from her.

Kayla lingered, kneeling at her side, her mouth pinched. "You were out for a couple minutes," she told her.

"Felt like five seconds. I was just tired, Kayla. It's okay. I just need to drink more water."

Glancing away, Kayla said, "I called Damon on your phone. He's on his way."

Sighing, she shook her head, but stopped as it began to pound. "You didn't have to do that."

Chewing on her lip, she shrugged. "I was worried."

Turning a soft smile in Kayla's direction, Bonnie reached over and patted her hand. "Hey, look at me…"

Kayla hesitated, but eventually let her eyes meet Bonnie's.

"I'm going to be okay." She squeezed Kayla's hand tightly. "I promise."

"Bonnie?"

She looked up then, to find the instructor holding out her water bottle. "Here. Drink this."

"Thanks, Sara," she said, taking the bottle from her and tipping it back, guzzling half the bottle.

Kayla helped her move so her back was against the cool brick wall and took a seat next to her, fiddling with the laces on her shoes as they talked. Kayla filled her in about school, telling her that her grades were picking up and she had an English paper that was due in a couple weeks. "It's on someone that inspires you," she explained. "It can be anyone. Aaron Rook wants to write his on Britney Spears and Chelsea H. said she was writing hers on Michelle Obama." She shrugged. "I was thinking something more personal."

"Yeah? Who do you have in mind?" Bonnie wondered, reaching up to wind her ponytail into a bun to get her hair off her neck.

"Um, well, I had a few ideas, but I was thinking, if you have the time, maybe I could interview you." She squirmed where she sat, nervously keeping her eyes on her fingers, picking at her chipped nail polish. "You don't have to. But if you want to… I just thought, since you have your own store and you always give me good advice, and you help me… It's not a big deal or anything."

Staring at her, brows raised in surprise, Bonnie said, "I… That would be great. Yes. Sure. I'd love to!"

"Really?" Kayla glanced at her.

Bonnie smiled gently. "Of course. I'm honored!"

Offering a half grin, Kayla nodded. "Cool."

Before Bonnie could say anymore, the door to the studio flew open and a worried Damon hurried inside. His pale blue eyes darted around before finally falling on her, still sitting on the floor. He crossed the room and dropped into a crouch. "What the hell happened?"

Bonnie shook her head, taking his hand as it reached up to cup her cheek. "I just blacked out for a second. It was nothing. I was dehydrated and I guess I pushed myself too hard."

He pursed his lips, staring at her a long moment, and then he looked to Kayla. "Hey, Pipsqueak," he greeted.

She rolled her eyes. "She was out for a couple minutes, but she seems fine now. She's been drinking lots of water."

"What, are you pre-med now? Time really flies, huh?"

With a snort, Kayla pushed herself up. "You're welcome, for calling."

Mouth twitching, he looked up at her. "Thanks."

"I'll see you later, Bonnie. Hope you feel better," Kayla offered before wandering back to the group, bumping shoulders with her crush, Lisa.

Bonnie smiled after her and then turned her attention back to Damon. At his stiff expression, she tipped her head. "I know what you're going to say, I'm working too hard and stressing myself out, this was supposed to be something fun, not something that makes things worse. And I get it, I do. But it was a dumb mistake, okay?"

He hummed and then reached for her hands, pulling her up so she was standing. When she didn't immediately fall over or show any signs that she was still dizzy, he let his arms fall to his sides again. "You ready to go, Flashdance?"

Her lips quirked. "Sure." She turned, walking to where she'd left her bag.

Damon beat her do it, grabbing it up before she could and pulling it over his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist then and pulled her into his side. "C'mon, let's get you home. We'll get take out and you can put your feet up."

Resting against him, she let her head fall to his shoulder. "Deal."

She waved to the others as they walked out and breathed in the cool night air as they left the building. Damon walked her to her car and settled her into the passenger seat before putting her bag in the back. He got into the driver's seat and then started for home, whistling along with the radio.

As much as she'd tried to play it off, there was a part of her that was worried. She didn't understand why she was so tired; she'd never been this exhausted before from spell-casting, so how could it be taking so much out of her and not producing anything? Chewing her lip, she wondered just how far it could really be pushed. What would the repercussions be if she didn't stop? But stopping wasn't an option. They needed to go home. The book wouldn't have shown up if it wasn't for exactly that reason. It was their only chance and she wouldn't waste it.

The car came to a pause at a red light and Bonnie was startled out of her thoughts as Damon wound his hand around hers, their fingers braided together. He didn't say anything, he didn't ask any more questions, he simply raised her hand up and pressed a kiss to the back. She turned to look at him, half-smiling at her even as the tension around his eyes told her he was still worried. She smiled, to put him at ease, and promised herself it would be worth it. He would get it when she finally got her powers back, when she got them home. He would understand.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Which one's the wrench again?" she joked.<p>

Damon raised an eyebrow back at her. "Ha. _Ha_."

Bonnie grinned at him from where she was seated on a stool in the driveway. "Remind me again why I'm handing you tools?" she wondered. "What happened to Danny or Chris hanging out with you while you try to fix this hunk of junk up?"

"What, you don't want to hang out with me?" He pressed a hand to his heart, smudging grease on his white t-shirt. "I'm _hurt_."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "No… But car stuff is usually reserved for the '_boys_.' Last time I tried to see how things were coming, you kicked me out and hung a 'No Bonnie's Allowed' sign on the garage door," she reminded.

"Where'd that sign _go _anyway?"

She scoffed. "Into the garbage, where it belongs."

His mouth twitched with amusement. Grabbing up a rag, he wiped his hands off as he told her, "Danny's going to see Carla's mom today, to ask her for her blessing about something…" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Bonnie lit up. "No way!"

He grinned crookedly. "Yeah, looks like all that baby talk's got the wheels turning, so Danny wants to do it the right way. Wedding first, babies second." He took a seat beside her and rested his arms on his knees.

"Good for them," she declared, nodding. "They're good together."

"Yeah, they're all right. Pretty sure Carla is way out of Danny's league, but that might just be because I have to put up with an overload of puns every day…" He snorted. "Can you imagine what his vows are gonna sound like?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Well, they're be interesting." She eyed him curiously. "What about you? Are you going to be a groomsmen?"

"_I_… am going to be his best man." He nodded, his chest puffed up a little with pride. "So you'll get to see me all decked out in a tuxedo. Bet you didn't think you'd see that again for a while."

"You _do _look good in a tux," she admitted, shrugging.

"I do," he agreed. "I might put the groom to shame."

Chuckling, she reached over and plucked up his beer from where it sat, sweating in the sun, and took a drag. "Save me a dance?"

"You kidding? You'll fill up most of my dance card… Well, when I'm not trying to take Naomi for a spin anyway."

Bonnie grinned. "Good luck. She hates dancing."

"I know." He winked at her. "That's why I do it."

Leaning over, she bumped his shoulder with hers. "Even if it's not real… Even if _they're _not real… It's good, right? We can be happy for them."

He looked over at her, searching her face, and then he nodded. "Yeah. We can." He slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Plus, there's cake, and I know how much you love cake."

Slapping his chest with the back of her hands, she snorted, but didn't argue. Instead, she let her head fall back against him, the sun warming her skin, and she thought about how nice it would be, to watch her two friends get married. Good for them. They deserved that happiness.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie woke up slowly, lethargic and confused. She was curled up on the couch, her head on her arm, a blanket tucked in around her. Blinking wildly, she looked around, her brow furrowed. "What…?"<p>

"Hey, you're awake." Damon left the kitchen to join her.

Slowly pushing up from the couch, she looked around, her lips turned down in a frown. "Did I fall asleep?"

"You passed out on the couch before I left for work…" He stared at her worriedly. "I figured you just need a couple more hours, so I called the shop, asked Naomi to cover for you." He knelt down beside her, placing a mug of steaming tea on the coffee table, and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead and then her cheek. "You feeling all right? You've been pretty tired lately." He stared at her searchingly. "You got ten hours last night, but when I came home from work, you were right where I left you."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just…" She shook her head. "It's probably a cold or something. I'll be fine."

She tried to sit up, and he reached forward to help her, getting her readjusted so she was sitting in the corner of the couch. He tucked a pillow in behind her and handed her the mug of tea before he took a seat on the table, watching her thoughtfully. She sipped at the tea and then held the mug in her lap, letting it warm her hands. In all honesty, she could fall right back asleep. She knew she wasn't taking care of herself, but juggling work, her dance class, and then sneaking around with the grimoire, putting all of her energy into trying to make something seemingly impossible happen was draining her. It looked like that peace she'd asked for on her birthday was all but gone.

"You'd tell me right… if something was wrong?" His question was quiet, hesitant, and completely unlike him. Not the concern, not the worry for her, she'd gotten used to that, but the look on his face, the uncertainty that things were all right… It broke her heart.

She could have lied. She could have told him it was just a cold, that he shouldn't worry, that everything would be fine in a few days. She just needed to try harder. Something would break. It had to. But seeing that look on his face, knowing how much he cared, even when he tried to pretend he didn't, it broke the dam.

"I found my grimoire." She blurted it out, a little louder than she meant to.

He stared at her. "Your…"

"My grimoire. It was in the book shelf. I found it and I… I've been trying to get my magic to work, but it won't." She rubbed a hand over her forehead in frustration. "I've tried everything. The simplest spells I can think of. But nothing happens. And I can feel it, I can feel that my magic isn't there. But I thought if I just _tried_… If I just kept pushing, eventually something would happen. The candles would light up or the feathers would float or something, _anything_. But it never does. And I…"

Her mouth wobbled and her eyes burned. "I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to. I thought about it, so many times, I just… I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want you to get your hopes up. Because I have no idea what it means. I don't know why it's here if I can't use it. So I can't… I _can't _get us home. Not yet. But I _promise_, I'll keep trying. It'll work, eventually, I know it will." She stared at him, searching out his eyes, but he'd dropped his gaze to her lap, his brow furrowed.

"Damon," she said quietly.

He didn't answer.

"Say something. Anything," she prompted. "At least look at me."

He swallowed tightly, and then asked, "How long?"

She stared at him, her teeth digging into her bottom lip.

He finally raised his eyes and met hers. "How long have you had it?"

"Four months."

He let out a breath, a humorless laugh, and then turned his eyes up. "Four months…"

She nodded slowly.

"Right." He ground his teeth then, and stood up.

She watched him, frowning. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

"_Damon_…"

He didn't pause, grabbing his jacket off the rack and shoving his feet into his shoes.

"We should talk about this," she said, putting her tea down and standing from the couch. She swayed a little, her balance off, and caught herself on the arm of the couch.

He flinched, having already taken a step back in her direction, but stopped when she found her footing. "We had plenty of time to talk. Four months ago," he muttered, lifting his chin stubbornly before he turned back toward the door.

"You can't be serious," she said as he yanked the door open.

He walked out, and he didn't look back.

Bonnie watched him go, tears biting at her eyes.

She knew she'd screwed up, but she had no idea how to apologize.

* * *

><p><strong> …<strong>

* * *

><p>It took her three days.<p>

Three days of sleeping alone, of him not answering his phone, of him not showing up at the store to drive home with her. She hadn't seen him since he'd walked out the door and she could feel his absence like a lead weight on her chest. There was a hollowness to the house, an emptiness to eating each meal alone, something not quite right about crawling into bed without him beside her.

On the fourth day, she went to Danny's. She knew he wasn't at Chris and Brandon's, because she'd not so subtly asked when she'd seen Brandon at work. Awkwardly, he'd admitted Damon had stayed the first night, but he hadn't seen him since.

That left Danny.

Damon had other friends, but none were as close to him as Danny was. Sure, he said his puns were awful, but he loved the guy. He was goofy and lighthearted and exactly what Damon needed in his life. Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't have moved on and started staying in a motel somewhere. She was prepared and willing to go to every single one in town if necessary. She wasn't stopping until she found him and they talked this out.

When she showed up at the house, she knew he was inside. She could feel it in her bones. He was in there. Her knock was a little frantic, but her nerves were shot and she'd been practicing what she would say for days. She shifted her feet back and forth, standing on the porch, staring at the door, waiting impatiently for it to open. She could hear footsteps and raised her eyes to the peep hole.

There was a sigh and then, "Damon! It's for you!"

Bonnie breathed a little sigh of relief that they weren't completely shutting her out or making excuses or hiding him. What he would do when he talked to her was his business; she was just glad they weren't helping him in evading her, not exactly anyway.

There was low talking then that she couldn't quite make out, but she knew that voice, she knew the exact pitch of Damon's voice, she could recognize it anywhere.

"Damon," she said, her voice shaky. "_Please_. I just want to talk."

There was a pause then, and she stared at the door, her eyes already beginning to burn. Putting her hands on either side of it, she said, "I didn't do it to hurt you. I… I did it to _help_, I swear. I just…" She squeezed her eyes shut then and took a deep breath. "I found the grimoire and I thought if I could just get it to work, if I could get my powers back, then it would be easy. But nothing was working. I… I tried _everything_, I tried so hard, and nothing changed. I didn't want to tell you about it if it wouldn't work. I couldn't get your hopes up like that. I knew… as soon as you saw it, your first question would be 'how do we get home?' I needed to have the answer first. That's all!"

Her chest hurt then, like it was cracking under the pressure of not knowing what was going on in his head. "I know you're mad I lied to you, but it didn't start out that way. I thought it was a sign. I thought… _I don't know! _Maybe Grams sent it. I just… I thought, if it was there, that something was trying to tell me that I could do it. I could get my powers back. But I needed to focus, I needed to work on it like I did before. I—I couldn't handle it if I disappointed you. I couldn't handle being the person who gave you hope only to rip it away. I didn't want you to lose them all over again, because that's what it would feel like, being so close and not getting it."

She opened her eyes then, still staring at the closed door, and felt her heart drop into her stomach. She was losing him. She was going to lose him completely and the very thought tore her up.

And then the door swung open, and he was staring down at her, his jaw clenched. He looked at her searchingly, his brow knotted and his mouth set in a line.

Bonnie stepped back, watching him as he moved to join her, closing the door behind him.

Nothing was said for a moment, just a heavy tension radiating between them. She rocked on her heels and rubbed her hands together, so much hanging on the tip of her tongue that she wasn't sure where to start.

She parted her lips, a breath leaving her, and then she swallowed tightly. "I'm sorry."

He stared at her, his head tipped slightly. "For what?"

"For lying…" Her gaze dropped to the porch floor. "For not being strong enough."

He shook his head, his hands finding his hips, and he laughed, bitter and empty. "You don't get it."

She looked up, confused.

He stared at her. "You know I thought I'd changed. Thought _we _changed…" He waved a hand between them. "I thought, after four and a half years, we'd learned something, you know? That maybe, somehow, without really saying it, we just… figured it all out."

Bonnie wasn't sure what to say, she wasn't quite sure she understood what he meant.

"You think I'm pissed because you lied to me?"

"I… _Yes_." She nodded, her brow furrowed in confusion now. "Because I did. I kept it from you. I could've told you. I _should _have told you."

"Yeah, you should have," he agreed, nodding. "As soon as it showed up, as soon as you had any idea what was going on, as soon as you started having headaches and nosebleeds and passing out. You should've _talked _to me." He balled his hand up into a fist when it shook. "More than that though, more than _any _of that, you should have _stopped_."

She blinked at him, her mouth falling open. "What?"

"You, whatever you were doing, it was tearing you apart. You were pushing yourself to _exhaustion_, Bonnie. And when I asked, when _anybody_ asked, you said you needed more sleep, you needed to drink more water, but you were handling it." He shook his head. "You know what I thought? For one stupid minute, despite everything, despite not knowing if it was even _possible_, I thought it was something like cancer. I thought something big, something we couldn't change, something _I _couldn't fight, was finally going to put big, bad, Bonnie Bennett down…"

He waved his arms out to his sides. "I thought I was _losing _you, and you were just too afraid to tell me. Too afraid to admit that something was really wrong. I thought you'd figure it out, you'd work up the courage, and you'd tell me, 'Hey, Damon, I'm really sorry… I— I don't know what happens after this, I don't know what it _means_ if I die here, but that's what's happening. I'm _dying_.' I was waiting for _that_." He stared at her, his eyes swimming. "And instead I find out that it's _you_. It's you playing martyr, _again_. It's you sacrificing yourself for somebody else, for _me_, and for what? _Why? _Huh? You thought I'd be _mad_ at you? That I'd tear you apart for not… not being _strong _enough?" He swallowed thickly then, dropping his head to look at the ground. "What the hell have we been doing?"

Her mouth fell open, a sharp pang hitting her chest. "Damon…"

"Four and a half years, and you still think I'd just throw you away, toss you in the trash, like you, your _life_, doesn't matter to me…?" His gaze bounced around, never quite landing on anything, and then he lifted his head and met her eyes once more. "I wanna go home, Bonnie. Some days, that's _all_ I want. But if I leave here, it's going to be with you. _Alive_. It's going to be me and you every step of the way, and if you think I'd let you _die _so I could go home, you're out of your damn mind."

He dragged a hand over his mouth then. "I've been here for three days trying to figure out what I did wrong. Because I must have. Somehow, something I did, got us here. All I know is that I fucked up. Whatever I did, whatever I _didn't _do, that makes you think that I'm still the same guy who wouldn't look twice at you if you were on fire. Whatever made you think you couldn't tell me what was going on, you couldn't trust me not to put it all on you to get us back, that'son me! I fucked up when I was alive, thinking exactly like that, and I fucked up now by not making it abundantly clear that I would do _anything _to keep you happy."

Sniffling, Bonnie reached up to swipe at her tears, watching him as he stared down at her, his expression a mixture of regret, anger, and sorrow.

"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life," he admitted, "some of them I can never apologize enough for, things I can't _be _forgiven for, and I can accept that. It's going to follow me for the rest of my life, however that's spent. But if it takes me every day of our afterlife to get it through your _thick_ head, then I'll spend it showing you that you are _not _expendable. You're not someone I expect to lay down their life so I can go on with mine. And the sooner you figure that out, the better, because there is no option where I watch you kill yourself for me or anybody else. You want a broken body on the ground to walk over on the way out of wherever we are, then it's going to be mine and you'll be the one making it to freedom, not me. Because the opposite just isn't happening. _Ever_."

Tears trickled down her cheeks as she stared up at him. "That's not what I want. I don't want to be the survivor to your sacrifice any more than you want to be mine."

"Then _stop_." He crossed the space between them then and cupped her face, staring down at her seriously, his eyes wide and desperate. "Stop trying. Stop hurting yourself." He shook his head. "It's not worth it."

Her face crumbled, her shoulders slumped, and she breathed in a shaky breath. "What about home? Elena? Stefan? All of it?"

He rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks, brushing away her tears. Giving her a little shake with each word, he said, sincerely, "Not. _Worth_. It." He raised an eyebrow then. "Okay?"

She nodded, her voice caught in her throat, making it burn with emotion.

Sliding a hand down from her cheek, he tucked it behind the nape of her neck and pulled her forward, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close in a hug. Bonnie gripped the front of his shirt, her face pressed to his chest, and let out a little shuddering breath. His hand rubbed up her back and over her shoulder, again and again, until she stopped shaking, stopped struggling, stopped crying. And then he dropped his head down, his lips brushing her ear as he said, "Let's go home."

Bonnie sniffled, her arm moving around his waist, and leaned into him as they walked down the porch chairs and across the yard to her waiting car. _Home_ was a ten minute drive away, no magic necessary. For the first time, that felt real. It felt okay to let go of Before. This was now, this was where they were and _who _they were and if that meant no going back, she could accept that. Home was her and Damon, together, forever.

[**Next**: Chapter Six.]

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>: _well, that was the longest chapter so far. I considered leaving it at the part where Damon leaves, but this is actually a huge turning point, because after this is where their feelings start to play a much larger part. the next chapter is when romance starts to become more clear, that it's something they want with each other, and I wanted to kind of end this in a place where they've shared some hard truths. _

_Damon has made it clear here that he might want to go home, but he's grown as a person, he's not as selfish as he was and he doesn't put everybody else before his needs or his love for Elena. This is where he's made it clear that his priority is for Bonnie's health and happiness. there were a few different ways I thought about writing this, but I really felt it made sense for Bonnie to feel like she owed this to him and to fall into that old role of putting herself last and those she cares about (in this case, Damon) first. Which is why it's so important that he shake sense into her and tell her she can't do this, because it's a growing point for both of them. She learns that she does not need to do these things, that by asking that of her, him and everybody who's demanded those things from her, were in the wrong. He recognizes that now. And now Bonnie can see that's true, that she doesn't have to be the sacrificial lamb and she shouldn't have to apologize for it. At one point, she even tells herself this, that in her current life, she has people who don't ask more than she can give, and she loves that. But even while she acknowledges that, she still puts herself on the chopping block. Which is why having her fall apart and having Damon tell her it's not okay was big._

_It's also a huge sentiment to their relationship with each other though. Damon is angry at her for lying, yes, but what he's really angry about is that over all that time, he didn't show her, or he didn't say it loudly enough, that she matters. Her life matters. He's more mad at himself than he is at her. They've become close, they trust and rely on each other, but she expected him to give all of that up and to demand that she get her magic together and take them home. in order to move forward, they took a giant leap back, realized their mistakes, acknowledged them, and learned from them. Suffice it to say, I'm really happy with that, so I hope you are too. And I'm hoping you're looking forward to the romantic turn of events coming in the next chapter. _

_Thank you all so, so much for reading! I'm truly flattered and encouraged by all of your reviews. I had a bit of writer's block, so it's really nice to see that everyone's still reading and enjoying. It makes it that much more enjoyable to write each chapter and get it out for you. _

_Please leave a review!_

**- Lee | Fina**


	6. hear, hear

**VI.**

* * *

><p><strong>FOUR AND 12 YEARS**

* * *

><p>Damon had never been the type of guy who apologized. More often than not, he tried to sweep his mistakes under the carpet. Sometimes he put the blame on others, or compared his mistakes to someone worse so he didn't seem as bad in comparison. He was also pretty good at pretending that his mistakes didn't weigh on him. And, in all honesty, some of them didn't. He'd done awful, terrible things, things that would make people cringe away in fear, things that gave people reason to raise a cross in his direction before begging God to have mercy on them and protect them from this devil. He'd killed, often without mercy, without regret, and there were some sins, some deaths, he didn't care to clean from his soul. Anyone who threatened him, who threatened those he cared about, he couldn't care less about taking their lives and spitting on their graves. Maybe it came with being alive for so long, his disregard for human life. Or maybe it was just a mental acceptance of survival of the fittest. He was the predator and all who stood in his path became the prey. If they died, he won. Simple as that.<p>

But there were some things, some people, he regretted.

Hurting Bonnie was among those. Realizing that in all the time they'd been together, she still expected him to go back to who he was, to forget all about her and who they were to each other in favor of getting home, that weighed on him. It kept him up at night, staring at the ceiling while she slept peacefully beside him.

It felt good, having her there again. The days he spent sleeping on Chris' couch and in Danny's guest room had felt off. He'd missed her. Missed her nightly routine and the weight of her body beside him. He missed her scent, mixing with the faint aroma of laundry detergent. He missed her sleep talking, mostly nonsense, and how she always kept one tiny foot outside of the blanket.

That time away had given him time to think about the mistakes he'd made. Not only in the time they spent together, but in the time before that, when he'd first come to Mystic Falls. He was more than a little ruthless, and equally theatrical, he knew that. She had every reason to hate him then. He'd done nothing but use her, demand her attention and her magic whenever he pleased, pointing her in the direction of whoever stood in their way, expecting her to perform like a puppet on strings he was the master of. Some of him regretted that, more because of how much he cared now than he had then. He didn't want to think he was a different person then, but parts of him were. He'd grown a lot, or so he liked to believe. He wasn't so cruel now, so eager to sacrifice others in favor of himself. But, if it came to it, if killing somebody else meant someone he loved survived, he would still do it. It was how he was made. It was written in his bones.

That didn't change the fact that Bonnie saw herself as the person he would sacrifice.

He turned onto his side, admiring her in the faint shaft of moonlight that spilled over her profile. She had a hand tucked under her cheek as she lay on her side, facing him, her eyes closed, lashes fanned out atop her cheeks. Shadows danced in the hollows her eyes and her cheeks and sculpted itself around her mouth, the corners perpetually upturned. He reached for her, the tip of his forefinger gently tracing the slope of her nose before moving to the curve of her cheek.

He wondered when it was she believed she could trust him. When she decided he was more friend than foe. He wondered how deeply it ran, because his trust in her, it was a part of him now. He wouldn't be up for any awards for being a good person any time soon, but he was loyal. When he loved, it was with all of himself, on a scale rarely seen. And he loved Bonnie. He knew that. He _thought _she knew that. But he'd screwed up somewhere, he'd let it go unsaid or unseen or _something_. The only thing he knew for sure was that she was willing to exhaust herself, to push herself past her limits, to get her magic back and send them home. And part of that was motivated by the idea that he would want it so desperately that he wouldn't even care if she died making it happen.

His heart twisted up in his chest, brow furrowed.

That wasn't an option. Losing her… in any capacity, was not on the agenda.

He would burn her grimoire to dust before he let that happen. Let her hate him then, she would get over it, they would have eternity for him to get back into her good graces. But at least that way they would _have _that time together. Maybe that was selfish. He wasn't perfect, not by a longshot. But if it meant keeping Bonnie in his life, he would do just about anything.

Scratch that.

He _would _do anything.

No 'just about' to speak of.

Now he just needed to show _her _that.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie was feeling better than she had in months. The last two weeks had been the most relaxed she could ever remember her life being. After her fight with Damon, she was realizing more than a few things. She had been pushing herself too hard, in all aspects of her life, not just with her magic but with work too. She'd promised herself she would slow down, take some time for herself, more than once, but now she was actually doing it. She asked Annette if she wanted a few more shifts each week and talked to Naomi about taking over the running of the shop rather than Bonnie being there to call all of the shots. She was still there each day, but she took her mornings off, coming in for afternoon shifts. She was still getting up in the morning with Damon, sharing breakfast with him and checking over her inventory, but she'd started doing yoga and meditation, taking some time to really find the peace she'd wished for on her birthday.<p>

"You always been this bendy?" Damon wondered.

Bonnie turned her head, sweat dotting her skin and her chest a little tight with the yoga position she was keeping. "I _was _a cheerleader," she reminded him.

His brows hiked. "Oh, I remember." He grinned at her, stepping out onto the porch, a mug of coffee in hand. He took a seat on the porch stairs, balancing his cup on his knee, and waved at her. "Please. Continue. I was enjoying the show."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, but didn't let his presence stop her, instead unfolding herself and moving into another pose. "Don't you have work this morning?" she wondered.

"Danny's running late, said he won't be here for another hour." He shrugged, his eyes moving down her body thoughtfully. "You know, you keep this up, I'm going to start feeling out of shape."

"You can always join," she told him.

He hummed. "Pretty sure I like it better from over here."

She shook her head. "I know you wake up early to go jogging in the mornings, and you keep active with work… Maybe in a few years, when your metabolism starts slowing down, we'll look at other options."

He half-grinned. "Are you suggesting I might not keep my god-like physique, Bon-Bon?"

"All that pasta has to catch up sometime," she mused.

"There're always more interesting ways to work off calories than exercising." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Bonnie let out a huff of a laugh.

"Hey, what are you doing Friday?" he wondered.

She hummed, giving her schedule a mental look over. "I'm closing up. Naomi's got a school play to go to. Why?"

"We should go dancing."

Her brow wrinkled. "I thought our date night fund was running low. We emptied out most of it on dinner last week, even if you did complain that steak was too small for how much they charged us."

"That steak was a joke" he scoffed. "Which reminds me, Danny's having a barbecue next weekend, he wants us to bring that casserole you made last time. He started drooling when he was talking about it."

She grinned. "Done."

"And as for date night…" He shrugged. "I'll take it out of my car fund."

She looked back at him, surprised. "Are you sure? I thought you were saving up for a part."

"I am. But it can wait." He pushed up off the stairs then and walked toward her. For a moment, she found herself distracted by the unnaturally graceful way he moved. He wasn't the predator he used to be, but she could still see it in his body, the confidence in his walk that was always present.

Bonnie pushed herself up so they were face to face, him in the grass while she stood in the middle of her yoga mat.

He reached for her, the tip of his finger stroking over the curve of her cheek, tucking a sweaty strand of hair back, behind her. "You, me, a good tango…" He stared down at her searchingly, his eyes seeming a little brighter than usual. "Just what I need in my life."

She gazed back at him and felt a weird thud in her chest as her heart seemed to speed up. She shook the feeling off and smiled. "Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

"Good." He tapped her nose lightly. "Wasn't going to take no for an answer."

Rolling her eyes, she hopped off her mat and onto the grass, bending down to roll her mat up and tuck it under her arm. "C'mon, now that I'm not moving, it's a little chilly out here." Reaching over, she stole his coffee and sipped at it, climbing the stairs of their porch.

Damon followed, half-smiling down at her. He took his mug as she passed it over her shoulder, frowning as he found it near empty.

She laughed knowingly, grinning back at him. "If you've got an hour, then we can spend it reading. I'll get the coffee, you get the book."

"Deal." He popped a kiss to her cheek right before they split ways, him toward the book shelf and her toward the kitchen.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie grinned, more in answer to Kayla's wistful smile than anything else. Her youngest employee was on cloud nine, humming under her breath and occasionally twirling around as she moved up and down aisles, checking stock.<p>

"So? Are congratulations in order?" Bonnie wondered finally.

Looking up from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, checking labels on a new batch of holistic ointment for aches and pains, Kayla raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations for what?"

"Well, the last time I saw you smiling this much it was after Lisa asked you to teach her some of your dance moves…" She wiggled her eyebrows. "So, did you get up the nerve to ask her out or what?"

"No. Just… thinking about her, I guess."

Nodding understanding, Bonnie asked, "Do you think you're going to?"

Biting her lip, Kayla shrugged. "I don't know… Should I?" She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Lisa's a grade under me. I'm graduating next month and she'll still be in high school."

Bonnie bent down then to help her with the labels. "What are you really worried about?"

It took Kayla a minute, chewing on her lip, before she admitted, "Everything… That Lisa doesn't like me like that. That I'm going to be done school and I have _no idea _what I'm going to do after. My dad said after this summer I'll have to start paying rent, so now I'm worried about money too. It's just… Ugh. Why does everything have to be so hard? Why… Why can't the girl I like like me back and my life just fall into place like I want it to?" Groaning, she dropped her chin to her hand, her elbow balanced on her knee and her chin in her palm. "Life sucks."

"Life doesn't suck." Bonnie smiled at her lightly. "Life is just… _life_. The girl you like might like you, or she might not. It's not the end of the world if she doesn't. There will be other girls. You're young, she's young, and there's a lot of life still left to live. Maybe you fall in love with each other, maybe you don't." She shrugged. "As for what you're going to do, try to remember that you don't have to figure out your whole life just this second. You've got options, and you've got time, so try a few different things, figure out what works for you… More importantly, _enjoy _yourself."

"You make it sound easy," Kayla sighed. "I'm not dumb, I know me and Lisa might not be some big epic love. But… I like her. I _really _like her. And I want her to like me too."

"So ask her, get coffee, see a movie, invite her out and see what she says."

"You think she'd say yes?" she worried, tying a lock of her hair around her finger.

"You never know until you ask." Bonnie leaned over and bumped Kayla's shoulder with her own. "One step at a time, right? The rest of your life can wait. But your Friday night is open."

Grinning, Kayla let out a laugh. "Yeah. You're right."

"I usually am," she boasted lightheartedly.

Pushing up from the floor, Bonnie returned to the front table, leaving Kayla to decide how she was going to ask her crush out.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon reached for her hand as they started down the main strip.<p>

"Remind me again why we're doing this?" Bonnie asked, folding her fingers between his.

He swung their hands between them in a rather exaggerated fashion. "Because. The town's kind of nice at night."

"It's a lot less creepy than Mystic Falls," she agreed. "Although, I think it only got that reputation after a certain vampire set up home there and the rest of the supernatural world followed…"

He hummed, giving her a little twirl and pulling her into his side. "My brother has that affect. You wouldn't think it by looking at him, but he's much creepier than his face would lead you to believe."

Bonnie laughed, her head falling back to his shoulder. "I don't think Stefan gives off a creepy vibe. Serious and a little dry, but not creepy."

"I don't know, there's something _definitely_ freaky about him when he has no humanity."

"That's different," she argued, bumping his hip with hers. "There's something _missing _then. Makes you a weird husk of what you really are."

"For someone who's never been a vampire, you've got some pretty set ideas about things…" he mused, looking down at her. "What else do you think?"

"The blood drinking is gross," she said simply. "Just all around, but especially when it's a human drinking it to heal themselves. I mean, I get why you guys drink it, it's your food source, but still…" She wrinkled her nose up. "_Gross_."

"You say that because you've never had a good experience with it," he told her, stepping them off the curb of the sidewalk and into the street.

It was late enough that there was no traffic coming or going, everybody peacefully tucked away in their beds. If he listened hard enough, he was sure he could hear the noise of a teenager on his skateboard or the odd car, but the town was mostly at rest. They walked down the center of the road, street lamps lighting their way. There was a faint chill to the air, enough that Bonnie had put on a warm coat and he'd donned his leather jacket.

Bonnie's arm came around his waist, hand splayed over his side. Sometimes, he noticed, she would tuck it into the pocket of his jacket to warm her fingers. "Having somebody try to rip my throat out wasn't the best experience, true," she agreed snarkily.

"Right, but it _could _be good, under the right circumstances."

"Should I even ask?"

He smirked down at her. "_Naked _circumstances," he clarified, amused.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "See, I knew that was what you meant."

"I'm just saying…" He shrugged. "With the right partner, at the right _time_, having someone bite you can be more than a little pleasurable."

"Somehow I don't think blood play is ever going to factor into my love life," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, not _now_… Not unless this town has a secret I haven't found out. Unlikely though, because I have the dirt on everybody around here…"

Looking up at him, she bit her lip. "It's cute, you know, how much you _gossip_."

"I do not _gossip_," he declared, raising his nose in the air. "I just… collect information."

"Uh-huh," she said skeptically.

"Valuable information."

"Damon, last night you spent an hour telling me about the affair one of the guys at the hardware store was having with one of the florists at Rae-Anne's Floral Boutique."

"_Because_! Randy is one of the assholes that calls Chris and Brandon names when he sees them in public. And now it's getting around that he's cheating on his wife with Tony Casey, who's definitely too good for him, but whatever. The point is, Randy's a dick, who apparently _likes_ dick."

"And that's his business."

His brows hiked. "Hey, I'm not screaming it from the rooftops, I'm just aware, and slowly waiting for his inevitable downfall."

"Shouldn't you be supporting him? Your best friend is gay."

"My best friend is gay, yes, but more importantly, he's not a raging asshole. Unlike Randy, who is, and who apparently—"

"Don't make that joke," she warned.

"Fine. But we both know where it was headed." His eyes lit up.

"Don't make that joke either."

Pouting his lips down at her, he complained, "You never let me make puns."

"I think Danny's rubbing off on you too much." She raised her finger just as he inhaled deeply, "_Don't_ say it."

Dropping his head back with a dramatic groan, he said, "That was a good one."

"Mm-hmm." She squeezed his side. "New topic. Where is a convenience store around here that's open 24/7…? I want ice cream."

"We have ice cream at home. _Plus_…" He paused in the middle of the street and dug her hand out from his pocket, bringing it forward. "You're cold."

She shrugged. "I want a specific ice cream, in sandwich form… And I'm not _that _cold."

"Your fingers are like ice." He cupped his hands around hers and lifted them to his mouth, blowing hot air on them before he rubbed his hands over hers to get the circulation moving again.

"See, now I'm all toasty, which means I'm ready for an ice cream sandwich," she declared cheerfully.

Rolling his eyes down at her, he nodded. "Fine. But we've coming out here again tomorrow, and we're making Sheila's hot chocolate too."

Bonnie grinned. "Agreed."

Slinging his arm around her again, he tucked her against him and, together, they made their way over to the sidewalk while he figured out the best way to get to a nearby store.

As they walked, he said, "You know who else is having an affair?"

He pretended not to hear her as she muttered 'Gossip' under her breath.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you don't mind?" Bonnie asked, again.<p>

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Of course. Listen, the whole point of you taking this time off is because you were pushing yourself too hard. I told you then, and I'll tell you now, any time I can help take the burden off your shoulders, honey, I'm there." Naomi reached for her then, taking both of her hands and squeezing. "This is good for you. You wanted to spend more time on yourself and now you're doing exactly that."

"I just don't want you to feel like I'm not grateful. And I really don't want to put too much on you. You've got kids at home, I don't want to take you away from them."

"Hey, my kids are fine," Naomi promised. "They love the after-school program they're in. By the time I lock up shop and pick them up, they're tuckered out _just _enough. And this overtime is helping me with the bills. I was doing okay before, but having a little extra in my pocket never hurts."

"You deserve it," Bonnie told her, smiling warmly.

"So do you," Naomi encouraged. "Besides, you're covering for me on Monday, which means I get to go on my _date_."

Bonnie beamed then. "How _is_ Carissa?"

"Still too pretty for words and smarter than I could ever _dream _of. She's writing a book, did I tell you?"

"Only three or four times," Bonnie teased.

Naomi waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Carissa's the first good relationship I've had in years. Do you know how hard it is to find someone that hits all your buttons? And I don't just mean in the bedroom; that's nothing compared to trying to have dinner with someone and not fall into those awkward silences."

"I know, I get it. And I'm happy for you. Carissa's amazing. And she's clearly head over heels for you."

"Let's hope so. I'd hate to be the only one getting too invested in this." Shaking her head, she said, "Anyway, enough about that. How excited are you for this art exhibit?"

"On a scale of one to ten, I'm somewhere around a twelve." Bonnie smiled brightly. "I love art, and we're not exactly flooded with it out here. It'll be nice to see something new."

"The artist is local, isn't she?"

Bonnie nodded. "Yeah, I've seen her selling things at the market each summer. She's great. I'm glad she's finally getting recognition."

"You should see if you can't get something going, talk to the town council, see if we can put together an art festival or something. Local artists can come out, put everything on display, and the town gets to see what everyone has to offer."

Briefly, Bonnie couldn't help but think of Caroline, of how she grabbed on to every chance to be on a committee. A wistful, nostalgic smile pulled at her mouth. "Maybe I will," she said thoughtfully.

"Just don't take the details onto yourself. Put the idea out there, doesn't mean you have to make it happen," Naomi warned.

With a laugh, she assured, "I won't. But it can't hurt to plant a few seeds, see if somebody else might get excited."

"Good." Naomi quirked her head. "Is Kayla going to the exhibit tonight too? I thought I heard her mention it last week."

Bonnie nodded. "She is. She and Lisa are going for their first date. Well, it's a school project slash date, I think. They're supposed to write a poem on one of the pieces and bring it into English class on Monday."

"Speaking of, how'd her report go on you?" Naomi wondered, leaning back against the counter.

"Really good. I was flattered she wanted to write it on me." She fiddled with some of the merchandise on the counter, making sure it was displayed properly. "We got lunch and she asked her questions. It's funny, I never thought I'd be on the other side of those things, the one answering questions on how I accomplished something."

"You've made a good life for yourself. It's something people want to aspire to. But it's also who you are, Bon." Naomi half-smiled at her. "You might not see it, but you're a special kind of person."

Wrinkling her nose humbly, she shook her head. "Not that special."

Naomi shook her head. "Fine, play blind, but the rest of us see you just fine."

Flushing a little at the compliment, Bonnie clucked her tongue.

The bell above the door rang then, drawing her attention as a customer stepped in. Bonnie breathed a little easier; she'd never been good at accepting praise. It wasn't so much she thought she was undeserving, she just wasn't used to getting it, and always felt awkward when it was piled on. But Naomi was just being kind, telling her the same kinds of things Caroline and Elena had tried to get across to her. Maybe one day it would sink in.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"What if I jumped the gun?" Danny wondered, pacing from one end of the garage to the other.<p>

"You didn't," Damon dismissed.

Danny shook his head. "We haven't been together that long."

"Five years is a while," he corrected.

"You and Bonnie have been together longer. What? Six and a half, just about seven. You're not married."

Damon's grip loosened on the wrench and he scraped his knuckles over the engine of his car. "Me and Bonnie are different," he said, leaning up out of the car, grabbing a rag to wipe at his hands.

"Yeah, 'cause Bonnie never pressures you to get married," he snorted. "You're lucky."

Raising an eyebrow, Damon reminded him, "You're the one that brought up marriage. Carla brought up babies. _Totally _different."

"Bonnie didn't bring up either. What's with that?"

He sighed. "This isn't about me and Bonnie. It's about you. Besides, if you want relationship advice, you should ask Chris; him and Brandon have the healthiest relationship I've ever seen. It's disgusting how healthy they are."

"Chris is busy, so you're my best option right now," Danny said dismissively. "Look, you and Bonnie are going strong, right?"

He nodded. "Strong as ever."

"And you plan on sticking around, right? I mean…" He glanced at the door leading into the house, even though Bonnie was out for lunch with Naomi. "You're in it for the long haul."

Damon blinked at him. "Oh. Yeah, no. She's stuck with me for life," he said simply, shrugging.

"Right. So… When did you know?" he asked seriously, looking at him with wide eyes. "When'd you look at her and know she was _it_?"

Damon's eyes narrowed. "What are you asking me, exactly?"

"There had to be other girlfriends, right? Before Bonnie?"

Damon nodded slowly.

"So how'd you know she was different? That she was gonna be the one you stuck with?"

He pursed his lips, dropping his gaze down to his hands, still dark with grease. It wasn't like in the last few years he hadn't thought about it. The chances of him going home were slim to none, so he had to wonder about his future. Bonnie had told him, more than once, he could always walk away, try making a real life, meet someone, fall in love, the whole shebang, and she wouldn't hold it against him. But the idea of leaving Bonnie always stopped him.

He looked at Danny and said, "First girl I fell in love with, Katherine Pierce… Girl _epitomized_ seduction. She was gorgeous, free spirit, hated following rules, and I… I was a rebel. Always did the opposite of what I should. I fell hard and quick, figured she was it, she was everything. We'd run off, rule the world, never look back… Turns out, she never loved me. She was, however, in love with my brother."

Danny winced sympathetically.

"Yeah, not the best relationship. But, even better, the _second _girl I fell in love with… Drum roll please…" He shook his head. "My brother's girlfriend. Not the same one, mind you."

"Same brother?"

"Same brother, different girl. Though, _remarkably _similar in looks," he mused, smirking to himself. "Elena Gilbert. Sweet, caring, down to earth, always trying to find the best in me…" He nodded. "And she did, kind of, for a while. I had a habit of trying to remind her of the worst of me, probably because I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and for her to leave me in the dust… It was a complicated relationship from the start. She was still in love with my brother for a while, I kind of stole her from him, and then things were just up and down. Always wondering if she'd change her mind, go back to him, or if one day she'd wake up, realize I was never who she wanted to be with…" His jaw ticked, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "But I still figured I hit the jackpot with her. All the good things I _wanted _to see in Katherine, I _did _see in Elena."

"So what happened?" Danny wondered.

"Ah, well… She died." Fine, so he died, but same difference. "Yeah, it was… a car crash. Drove right through a restaurant we used to frequent. Place blew up. It was pretty crazy."

"Wow." Danny's eyes widened, brows hiked. "So how'd you meet Bonnie?"

His mouth turned up then. "I'd known Bonnie for a while. She was one of Elena's best friends. They grew up together. We, uh, we just kind of gravitated to each other after everything went down… Leaned on each other, I guess. It was kind of like we were the only two people in the world. And things just kind of… grew from there."

Nodding thoughtfully, Danny said, "So what made you fall for her?"

Licking his lips, he let out a faint laugh. "What's not to love about her? She's fierce, smart, beautiful, the most stubborn person I've ever met… She's loyal and funny and she never lets me get away with anything. Which, usually annoying but… Just part of her charm." He blinked a few times, smiling to himself. "You know, when I met Bonnie, she hated me. Good reason too, wasn't the best guy then. Still kind of reeling after Katherine and I took it out on everyone around me… But she came through for me a lot, got me out of a lot of scrapes. Could even say she saved my life a time or two… Still didn't _like_ me, but, she always came through. Dependable, that's Bonnie. Dependable and… self-righteous and judgmental and sacrificial and loving and…" He let out a heavy breath. "Irreplaceable."

"Wow." Danny grinned then. "And I thought _I_ was whipped."

With a snort, Damon rolled his eyes, pushing off his car. "The _point _is… Bonnie was everything I wanted, and never knew I wanted, in my life. She's not perfect, she talks in her sleep and she hates admitting she's wrong and she gives me the silent treatment when I bug her too much. Which, now that I think about it, you think I'd appreciate, because naggy-Bonnie is no fun. But… I don't know. I start to miss her voice after a while." He hummed. "Anyway, she's the only person I can see myself bugging for the rest of my life. Even when we're eighty and she keeps trying to roll her wheel chair away from mine, I'm gonna be right there, rolling after her…" He grinned. "What about you? Where's Carla going to be?"

Leaning back against the tool bench, Danny let out a laugh. "Surrounded by our grandkids, probably."

Nodding, Damon said, "Yeah. I can see that."

A few beats passed before Danny asked, "Beer?"

Damon nodded as he turned back to focus on his car. The discussion was officially closed, but that didn't leave a few things lingering in Damon's head, like how he could see that image of him and Bonnie, old and wrinkled, wheel chair bound and bickering for the rest of their days. He smiled at the thought. That worked just fine for him.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>The dance club was busy; a lot of the town, young and old, came out to indulge. It was 90's night and Damon was in his prime, jumping around, his nostalgia on overload. Bonnie knew most of the songs from her childhood, and was happy to shout the lyrics as she danced. The energy flowed through them, rattling their bones, adrenaline flowing and sweat collecting.<p>

Bonnie was laughing, her head tipped back. The music was so loud, she couldn't hear herself thinking, which was exactly how she liked it. The best part of dancing was losing herself. She caught Damon's fingers, always reaching for and finding her, and let him twirl her around, under his arm and around his body before she was back in front of him. His hands were on her hips, twisting her side to side, before reaching up, fingers crawling up her back. He dipped her low, her leg kicking up for balance. When she came back up, she was smiling, resting against his front, her heart beating hard in her chest.

Damon grinned down at her, his hair wild and his eyes bright. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up, and he was just as lost to the music as she was. Her arms reached up, hands curled around his shoulders, while they swayed, coming down a little even as the beat raged on, the tempo quick.

Her sweat damp cheek fell to his chest, her eyes at half-mast. They moved around in a circle, one of his palms making soothing circles over the small of her back. His chin landed atop her head and they let the world fade from around them, the music nothing but a dull roar. There was only them, their feet moving together just an inch at a time, their heartbeats falling in sync, and every part of them pressed together.

Eventually, when the energy dipped low enough, they would separate, shake it off and get back to dancing, but for now, they held on to each other, and found a moment of peace.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Annie?" Bonnie called, lifting a top up in askance. "What about this color?"<p>

Annette looked over from where she stood in front of a mirror, checking out her latest outfit. She squinted in Bonnie's direction, tipped her head, and then nodded. "It's good. It'll bring out your eyes."

"Not for me. For you," Bonnie corrected. "We're shopping for you, remember? I have more than enough clothes at home. Seriously, my closet is bursting."

"Walk-in or no?"

"No." Bonnie shook her head, fingering through a few more tops, discarding three before pausing on a fourth. "If it was, it'd probably enable me even more. Anyway, you're the one who wanted shopping therapy. What's up?"

"Nothing. I just… I don't know. Sometimes I need a break from being a mom and a wife." Her voice became muffled as she moved back into the dressing room, exchanging her current outfit for a nice sun dress. "Don't get me wrong… I love my family. I just need some time off sometimes. A reboot. You know?"

"Sure." Bonnie took her armful of clothes with her and made her way over to the dressing room. "If you ever need a day off, just let me know. We can invite Naomi out next time too, maybe even Carla if she's up for it. Make a ladies night. We haven't had one in a while." Her eyes lit up. "We should make dinner, watch movies, give each other facials. Since I'm the only one without kids, we can do it at my place."

Coming out of the dressing room, Annette grinned at her. "I'd love that."

"Great." Bonnie gave her a look over then and nodded. "This one's going in the Must Buy pile."

Annette smoothed her hands down the dress and moved to the mirror, nodding happily. "Agreed." Giving a little twirl, she made her way back to the dressing room. She grabbed a few tops from Bonnie, but held up the one she'd showed off earlier. "Do me a favor and try this one though. I wasn't kidding. It'll really bring out your eyes."

Bonnie took it and shrugged. "Fine. But I'm adding you to my enabler's list."

Laughing, Annette disappeared behind the curtain. "I can live with that."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"What about this one?" Bonnie asked, holding up a book for him to see.<p>

Damon muttered, "Hold on," before giving his sauce a stir and putting the lid back on. He peered over at her, standing on a small step-ladder, barefoot and in her favorite ratty pajama pants. She held a book in her hand, the title of which was hidden, but the general color and width of it familiar. "No, we're keeping that one, I like it."

Exasperated, she sighed at him, putting it back on the shelf. "So far you've donated exactly two books, Damon. It's a book drive, the point is to make sure other people get to enjoy them too."

"Well, they can enjoy something else. I can't help it if our collection is perfect," he defended, shrugging as he wiped his hands down on a dish towel and walked into the living room to join her.

"There has to be something we can get rid of… Something you don't like…" She perused the shelves, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "You know, the more we get rid of, the more space we make to buy more."

"We already got rid of two. That means we can pick up _two _more."

She rolled her eyes. "Both of those books were gifts. Peter got us one last year for Christmas, and Naomi got the other."

"Yes, I don't know how I'll survive without 'How to Know When a Women Isn't Interested in You.'"

Her lips quirked up in amusement. "Naomi knows her audience… It was a gag gift. Your own fault for hitting on her all the time."

"I do it out of love," he said, leaning against her side, his head resting near her shoulder. The added height advantage of the step ladder didn't make her all that taller than him, but it was enough. "Love for how exasperated she gets. Now that I think about it, it's probably because it's how you used to look at me."

Bonnie snorted. "I _still _look exasperated with you."

"Yes, but _you_ willnever get rid of me. So it's like a free pass to annoy you." He reached an arm around her, his hand on her hip, and turned her a little. "Grab that yellow one… No, two over… Other direction."

"That's not yellow, that's green," she told him, grabbing it down.

"Looks like pea soup," he pointed out, "which is _yellow_."

"It's a _greenish_ yellow."

Sighing, he said, "Hand it here."

"Why? Is it going in the box?"

"No. Absolutely not. Are you kidding?" He took the book from her hand and waved it at her. "Some of the greatest Italian poetry ever written is in here. I'm not letting anybody else get their dirty paws on it."

Frowning down at him, she said, "You're supposed to be helping me."

"I am." Lifting her right up off the step ladder, he brought her over to the couch and dropped her down onto it. "You worked very hard today, why don't I read you a little something?"

Bonnie gave him her patented look of exasperation, which only made Damon grin.

"C'mon…" he cajoled. "A little poetry, some dinner, and we'll tackle the book drive again after."

"Promise?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Cross my heart," he said, doing exactly that with his finger.

"Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest and settled more comfortably into the corner of the couch. "I'm listening. _Regale _me…"

Damon thumbed through a few pages, in search of one of his favorites, he hummed, discarding a few, until eventually he found Dante Alighier's "Love and the Gentle Heart."

He read it first to her in flawless Italian, his mouth forming each word slowly, letting them drip from his tongue with reverence. He glanced up from time to time, watching the way her eyes fell to half-mast and her lips parted, letting his voice and his words, unknown to her, flow over her. He paused at the end, watched as she sighed, her shoulders slumping with something like bliss.

And then read it again, this time in English:

"_Love and the gentle heart are one thing,  
>just as the poet says in his verse,<br>each from the other one as well divorced  
>as reason from the mind's reasoning.<em>

_Nature craves love, and then creates love king,  
>and makes the heart a palace where he'll stay,<br>perhaps a shorter or a longer day,  
>breathing quietly, gently slumbering.<em>

_Then beauty in a virtuous woman's face  
>makes the eyes yearn, and strikes the heart,<br>so that the eyes' desire is reborn again,  
>and often, rooting there with a longing, stays,<em>

_Until love, at last, out of its dreaming starts._

_A woman is moved likewise by a virtuous man_."

When Bonnie finally opened her eyes, she stared at him a long moment, and then gave a small nod. "That one stays."

He smiled slowly. "Good. I have a few more in here I think you'd like." He closed the book and placed it on the end table before he stood from the couch to return to the kitchen and check on his pasta sauce.

Bonnie lingered, before eventually pushing back off the couch and moving to the bookshelves once more. This time she was a lot more careful about picking which books should stay or go. He noticed she purposely skipped over anything in another language and his mouth turned up at the corners. Apparently she liked it when he spoke Italian; he'd have to keep that in mind.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Kayla Durante," the announcer read, standing atop the stage.<p>

In her blue graduation gown and cap, Kayla climbed the stairs to shake the hand of her principal and accept her high school diploma.

In the crowd, Bonnie stood, clapping and cheering loudly alongside Damon, who gave a piercing whistle, Naomi, Brandon, Annette and Peter. Bonnie spotted Kayla's parents a few rows down, clapping proudly along with them.

"Do you have the camera?" Bonnie asked.

Damon nodded beside her, digging the Polaroid camera out of his pocket.

"Come on." Squeezing past the others sitting beside them, they made their way down the aisle.

Kayla, after shaking the hands of her teachers, made her way around the many seats holding graduates and paused in front of Damon and Bonnie, flushed and beaming excitedly.

Bonnie gleefully handed her a bouquet of roses and a teddy bear holding a sign that read 'Congratulations!'

Holding the camera up, Damon nodded his chin at her. "Show me some teeth, Half-Pint."

She rolled her eyes, but complied, grinning lopsidedly as he snapped a picture and then handed it to Bonnie to shake out.

"One more," he said, holding the camera up.

"I have to go sit down," she said, laughing.

"In a sec. Hold up your diploma."

She sighed, but raised it up, her flowers and bear resting in her other arm, and mugged for the camera, crossing her eyes and sticking her tongue out just before the flash.

"Well, see, now you ruined the moment," Damon complained.

Groaning, Kayla shook her head. "I have to go sit down. I'm holding up the line."

"Okay, okay, we'll get more later," Bonnie decided waving her hands. Still, she was grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. "I'm so proud of you!"

Kayla flushed, her eyes falling. "I know. Thanks, Bon." She rolled her eyes and added, "You too, Damon."

"Don't get sappy, Kid. It's not our style," he said, before swinging an arm around Bonnie, who was blinking back tears. He winked at Kayla before she made her way back to take her seat by her fellow graduates.

Damon led Bonnie back to their seats, rubbing her arm. "You okay, Little Bird?"

She sniffled, nodding. "I'm just so happy for her. She tried _so _hard."

He chuckled under his breath and kissed her temple. "I know."

Taking their seats once more, he kept his arm around her through the rest of the ceremony. When it was over, they took a ton more pictures with each of them hugging Kayla happily and offered to take her out for lunch since her parents had a congratulatory dinner planned for later.

Bonnie, feeling like a proud mother, reached out and took Kayla's hand as they crossed the parking lot in a large group.

"Are you proud of yourself?" she wondered.

Kayla nodded. "Yeah. I am."

"Good. You should be. You worked your butt off to get your grades up and you never let anything get in your way." Bonnie squeezed her hand. "I'm proud of you, Kayla."

Blinking back the sting of tears, Kayla smiled. "You know, I'm not sure I could've done it without you."

Shaking her head, Bonnie released her hand to wrap her arm around her in a side hug. "You're a lot smarter and stronger than you think. And you are going to do _amazing _things… I can feel it."

"Yeah?"

Bonnie looked her in the eye and said, "You're a dragon, remember?"

Smiling tearfully, Kayla nodded. "I am, aren't I?"

"You are."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"What's this?" Bonnie asked, her brow furrowed as she stepped through the front door. She dropped her keys in the dish and shrugged her coat off, kicking her shoes behind her. "I thought we were doing soup and sandwiches tonight."<p>

The table was dressed in unlit candles, the good wine glasses were out, and Damon had even rolled fabric napkins by the cutlery.

She paused. "Did I miss an anniversary or something?" she worried.

He grinned back at her. "No. I just felt like doing something nice."

Raising an eyebrow at him, she walked around the island slowly. "Okay…" she said slowly. "You're sure I didn't forget something. I know it's not your birthday…"

He laughed under his breath. "What? I can't make you dinner?" He walked into the kitchen, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Food's not ready yet. You can take a shower, meet me back out here."

Bonnie was still skeptical, but shrugged, moving past the table and down the hallway to the bathroom. After closing the shop a little later than usual and getting Damon's text that he would meet her at home, she was expecting a low key night. Not that she wasn't happy with him going out of his way, she just wasn't sure of the 'why.'

After her shower, she dressed in her bathrobe and made her way to their bedroom, still dabbing her face dry with a towel. Seeing as he was dressed up in a black button up and pressed black pants, Bonnie decided to look through her closet for something nice to wear. She found a red wine dress that reached mid-thigh, with spaghetti straps, beside one of her favourite sweater dresses and pulled it out. The material wasn't tight but loose and floaty. She'd bought it on a shopping trip with Annette but hadn't had a chance to wear it yet. Laying it out on her bed, she went through her routine, drying her hair and tying it up, rubbing her favorite lotion into her skin, and dabbing perfume to various places. She skimmed into her dress and made her way out to the kitchen, leaving her feet bare in favor of comfort.

Damon was just lighting the candles, looking up as she stepped out of the mouth of the hallway. For a second, she felt her breath catch in her throat. The candlelight lit up his face, warming hollows and enhancing certain angles. She wasn't unaware of how handsome he was; she'd often thought how unfair it was that a man as dark as he could be was so unnaturally beautiful. Maybe it was the last few years, but some part of her had just gotten used to it. Seeing his face on a daily basis, seeing him at both his best and worst, it had a way of enhancing a person's personality beyond their looks. But there were moments, startling in their simplicity, where she looked at him and was reminded that he could take her breath away without even really trying.

"Hungry?" he asked her, mouth curving up on one side.

She nodded, breaking out of the spell, and even laughed at herself under her breath. She stepped further into the room, moving to her side of the table, smiling as he held her seat out and tucked her in as she sat.

"I made a little of all your favorite dishes," he told her, sitting down across from her and giving his napkin a snap to unfold it before laying it in his lap. He raised the lids off a few bowls and dishes, steam flowing out of each of them.

Her mouth watered as she took in each one; he wasn't kidding when he said it was all of her favorites. There was a little bit of everything she could ever remember telling him was his 'best dish yet.' She said it a lot too, since his cooking had made a bit of an addict out of her. Damon dished it out between them, licking his fingers as a little pasta sauce spilled onto his hand.

"How long've you been cooking?" she wondered.

He half-grinned, shrugging. "I took a half-day. Came home and got it started a little after you went to work."

Bonnie looked up at him, her brows hiked. "Why?"

He stared at her a long moment. "Just showing my appreciation," he said quietly.

She gazed at him a while longer, a warmth spreading through her chest, and when he broke his gaze away and tried to focus more on the food, she reached across the table, putting her hand over his. He skin was smooth and warm, and his finger unfurled as his hand turned over so hers rested against his palm. His thumbs rubbed across her knuckles, back and forth gently.

"Is that what the last few months have been about?" she wondered.

"Hm?" he said, purposely keeping his eyes on the baked salmon and zucchini he was placing on her plate, beside the steamed green beans.

"Damon," she said, raising an eyebrow. "It's hard not to notice how much attention you've been paying me lately. The extra date nights, taking me to the art exhibit, our late night walks around town, how you keep trying to get me to sleep in…" She watched him curiously. "You know I don't expect you to change, right? I was insecure, I know that. When the grimoire showed up, I made assumptions, about both of us. And I put that on you, instead of just talking to you like a normal person. All I'm trying to say is that it's _not_ all on you. I have a part in it too. I should've trusted you more. After everything we've been through. I've _seen _you grow. I _know _you're not who you were. I just..." She chewed her lip, her gaze falling to the table.

"You what?" he prompted, squeezing her fingers encouragingly.

"I… I couldn't imagine you wanting to stay here, not when getting home… getting back to Elena and… _everyone_. I just… I tried to think of a scenario where you would pick this over that and it never made sense. Everything you've ever done, everything I knew about you, it always had one outcome, and that was taken from you. I wanted to give it back to you. I wanted so badly to give you what you wanted, what you _deserved_, and I thought, if I just tried hard enough, I _could_."

"What do you think I want?" he wondered.

Bonnie raised her eyes then, and found him staring back at her, his eyes soft, searching her face. She blamed the candles for still making him look so distractingly, hauntingly, beautiful. "Home," she murmured.

"We have a home. _This _is our home," he reminded, raising a finger to motion around them. "Might not be what we grew up in or what we were used to, but we made it a home. You and me."

She swallowed thickly then, her heart feeling like it was climbing up her throat. "It is. And I love it," she assured. "But there are still things missing here that can't be replaced… Like Stefan… Elena…" She trailed off. "I know you miss them. Even if you're happy here, I know you wish you could have them too."

"I think the emphasis there would be on 'too.' As in, _additionally_." He shook his head. "I'm not going to lie and say I don't miss them, but… Everything we do, everything we want, comes at a price. We paid ours. We had that life, we lived it, and it's over. What we have now, I don't want to spend it regretting things. I spent too much of my life wondering 'what if,' being angry at my brother for choices he made that I would've made too if I was in his shoes." He screwed up his face, smiling faintly. "I'm tired of wishing things were different and putting all my chips on something that's probably never going to happen." He sighed, rubbing his thumb over her wrist. "I can't force you be happy. In the end, being happy, being okay with all of this, letting that life _go_, it's up to you."

"Is that what you're doing? Are you letting go of going home?" she wondered, peering at him thoughtfully.

"I…" He licked his lips, his tongue dragging slowly. "I'm accepting that home is different now. Not better or worse, just different."

Nodding slowly, Bonnie offered a smile. "Okay."

He stared into her eyes searchingly, gave her hand one last squeeze, and said, "Okay. Now. Eat up." She brought her hands back to her side, taking up her cutlery, and watched as he finished dishing out her food, his expression bright and his shoulders seeming to have been relieved of an unseen weight.

Putting her attention back on her food, she hummed appreciatively. "Everything looks amazing."

"Yeah, wait until you see dessert." He winked at her, smirking, and Bonnie felt her a thread of heat run through her.

She frowned for a moment, her brow furrowed. It wasn't the first time he'd winked at her; not even close. But it felt different. It felt _charged_, somehow, and she wasn't sure why.

"Bon?"

"Hm? Yeah. Sorry, what?" she said, giving her head a shake.

"You can't be in a food coma already, you haven't touched anything yet," he teased. "Pass me the wine."

Smiling, she did just that. "I'm just hungry," she defended, more to herself than him. Taking a deep breath, she decided to forget all about it and instead focus on the delicious meal in front of her. "Are we going to say thanks or anything?"

After pouring them each a glass of wine, Damon raised his, "To us. And everything we have ahead of us."

Bonnie raised her glass in cheers, gently knocking it against his.

_Hear, hear_.

[**Next**: Chapter Seven.]

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>: _i'm so, so sorry this is so late. I originally planned this for monday, and then i thought wednesday would happen, but i have a lot of essays and tests to study for right now, so i didn't get a chance to edit this until tonight._

_okay, so, the romance in this chapter was seen more through physical touch, and through damon's talk with danny. this is him beginning to understand that his feelings for bonnie, what he has with her, can be amazing on a whole other level. which is why you can see bonnie slowly starting to notice something coming from him and why he's even more physically affectionate with her. i see damon as more action orientated than vocal, so a lot of what he wants gets shown through little touches and how he's always got some part of him touching her. with bonnie, she's starting to notice the tension and she's questioning what she feels. the ending of this chapter is also really important because this signifies damon truly closing the door on not only going home but on elena. the previous chapter was more of him recognizing that he wouldn't sacrifice bonnie to get home to elena, but this is him realizing that by accepting that going back is no longer an option, he has to let her go too. i like to think his conversation with danny had a lot to do with him fleshing his feelings out on that end and, as he and bonnie grow together, he's realizing that his relationship with her is much healthier than those he's had in the past. the next chapter will explore more of the tension between them now that bonnie's becoming aware and damon's let go. so i hope you're eager for that!_

_thank you all so much for reading, i really appreciate all of your feedback and how much you're enjoying the story. it really keeps my passion for it going. _

_please leave a review!_

**- lee | fina**


	7. epiphany

**VII**.

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE YEARS<strong>

* * *

><p>For the record, Bonnie wasn't exactly sure when Sunday morning cuddling became a thing, though she wouldn't exactly be complaining either.<p>

It felt good to be touched, to be held, to feel cherished. Anything beyond that was not something she felt like dissecting. What she did know was that she enjoyed it, and so did he.

Damon loved to cuddle. He never said it outright, but Sunday mornings were their sleep-in day and, more often than not, she woke up with him wrapped around her, his head on her shoulder or his face buried against her stomach, or one particularly memorable moment when he had his cheek comfortably perched on her breast, a faint smile turning up his mouth. Regardless of whether it just naturally happened when they were sleeping, he no longer detangled from her when they were awake. Instead, if she tried to get up and end their early morning cuddles, he would make a frustrated noise of argument and tighten his arms around her. It was cute, at least when she didn't desperately have to pee.

Five years they'd been in this strange world, and she'd grown an odd fondness for it. She liked their friends and their town and her shop. But more than that, she liked how quiet and safe and normal it all was. She liked not having to fear for her life every other day or having to put up with some huge tragedy that took them by surprise. And she really liked that Damon was there with her. Sure, in the beginning she'd had some reservations about how they would cope, sharing the same space, day in and day out. She'd been certain they'd end up killing each other. Instead, he became her closest friend. He became her other half in a way nobody had before. She had loved Jeremy, she never doubted that, but there was a miscommunication there that never seemed to end. Maybe theirs was a doomed love from the start. What she had with Damon was different. And labeling it was sometimes more difficult than she understood. He was her friend, of that she was sure. But sometimes when he looked at her, when she looked at him, she felt something. A shift. A _heat_. And the title of friend seemed so _lacking _because of it.

Whatever he was, he was hers. She knew Damon better than he knew himself some days and, while he sometimes drove her crazy, she wouldn't trade him in for anything or anyone. As strange as it might have seemed to her five years ago, now she couldn't imagine her life without him in it, and she was glad that she probably wouldn't have to. Whatever weird world they were in, it seemed to be holding up. Between so much time passing and her inability to use magic no matter how hard she tried, she had no reason to believe that would change any time soon. So here they were, stuck with each other, and it was more a blessing than she could have ever expected.

"You're thinking too hard."

"Is that even possible?"

"Your thinking is interrupting," he complained.

She snorted. "Interrupting _what?_"

Instead of answering, Damon merely tightened his arm around her waist and drew her back until she was comfortably tucked into the curve of his body. He nuzzled her hair out of the way and perched his chin on her shoulder. "Go back to sleep, it's Sunday."

Bonnie smiled faintly and covered his hand with hers, closing her eyes even as the sun crept up over their bed and them. Another hour couldn't hurt.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Are your eyes open?" she demanded, her voice a little distant as she was no longer in the bedroom.<p>

He laughed, leaning back on the pillows stacked up behind him in the bed, and called back, "Are you accusing me of being a liar? I'm offended, Miss Bennett. Is this how you treat everybody on their birthday?"

"Damon," she said exasperatedly. "Just keep your eyes closed."

"They're closed." He paused. "Is this going to turn naughty?" He placed his hands in a prayer position under his chin and said, "_Please_. Lingerie is always the best gift."

"I wasn't aware you enjoyed wearing lingerie. I'll keep it in mind for Christmas. Remind me to get your measurements later."

"Ha. _Ha_," he muttered, mouth still turned up at the corners. "Seriously though, how much longer do I have to keep my eyes closed? If you made me breakfast in bed, it's gotta be getting cold by now…"

"It's not breakfast."

She was much closer now and, being the most impatient person alive, he cracked one eye.

"No peeking!" she ordered, backing up through the bedroom door and glaring at him.

He obeyed, but he knew now that she had a box in her hands. "Presents already?" He held his hands out. "Gimme."

"God, you're the worst for trying to surprise, you know that?" she complained, but placed the box in his lap anyway.

"Geez, Bon, what'd you get me. Little heavy, don't you think?"

"Open your eyes," she sighed. "Just for the record, this is yours. _All _yours. Meaning completely and entirely _your _responsibility. And also your _fault_ if anything goes wrong."

"That's not discouraging at all." His eyes popped open as he stared down at the nondescript brown box, no wrapping, just closed loosely on top. "I really appreciate the effort you put into making this beautiful for me," he said sarcastically. "Seriously though, should I be concerned by the lack of flashy wrapping paper and handmade bows? You're usually a sucker for those. Has the spark gone out of our relationship? Is this a sign?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just open it."

"Fine, fine." Reaching for the top, he hooked his finger under one of the box flaps before he felt the box shift, _on its own_. His eyes suddenly widened. "You _didn't_…"

She smirked at him.

Flipping the top open hastily, he peered down inside, and sucked in a sudden breath. A little black Labrador puppy lay curled up inside; it opened its mouth to let out a yawn and blinked pale blue eyes up at him. Damon reached inside and picked it up, the box shoved to the side as he grinned. It was perfect, and something excited twisted up in his chest. He'd always wanted a dog and now he finally had one.

"What's his name?"

"_Her _name. And she's your dog, you name her," she said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "They didn't get too creative with names where I picked her up. One of the dogs at the shelter gave birth and this little lady was the runt of the litter." She reached over to gently stroke her fingers down the puppy's back.

Damon cupped his hand under the dog's backside and cradled her against his chest, staring down at her as she peered back at Damon curiously. She crawled up Damon's chest, her little tail wagging, and stretched a paw out to Damon's face. "You know, leaving the name up to me could be a bad idea. I could call her Dracula… That could be gender neutral, right?"

Bonnie's nose wrinkled with distaste. "Please don't."

"Fine." He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "But it's gonna take me some time to get her name right."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and stood from the bed. "Uh-huh, just as long as I have something to yell when she starts chewing on everything." She walked off toward the door then, telling him, "I'll start breakfast, birthday boy."

As soon as she was gone, he looked down at his nameless puppy. Stroking his hand down her back and scratching at her nape, he said, "Don't worry, you'll grow on her. Trust me, I'd know."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Apparently having a dog was not all it was cracked up to be; still nameless, the only word their dog would know these days would be 'No!' as it was Bonnie's favorite thing to yell whenever it started peeing or chewing on anything in sight.<p>

"You're your father's dog," she'd mutter as she cleaned up, glaring at the little rascal that panted cheerfully, watching her with her head tipped to the side.

Still, regardless of the chaos she brought with her, the dog had a certain charm. She yapped too much and ate non-stop, but she also loved to cuddle and her favorite spots were Damon's chest and Bonnie's lap. She'd taken to sleeping on Damon whenever he laid down and spent most of her mornings with Bonnie, who had elected to start bringing her to the store with her, where she had a little dog bed for her to lay on in her office while Bonnie did book work. This, she defended, was more out of pity for the dog having to stay home alone than because Bonnie had taken any sort of liking to her. She maintained she had not; it was Damon's dog and she put up with her and all of her loud whining (especially at night, because she was afraid of the dark), solely because Damon was completely in love with his new dog.

Every morning, he took her out with him for his jog and as soon as he finished work and met Bonnie at the shop, he was all about playing with his puppy on the floor and kissing her forehead as he scratched her ears. Bonnie had no idea he could be so mushy. It was rather endearing.

Bonnie watched, biting her lip to hide a smile, as Damon pulled on a knotted rope, playing tug-o-war with his dog, grinning excitedly and letting her think she'd won, dramatically letting himself fall to the shop floor before he was accosted with puppy kisses all over his face.

"I don't think I've ever seen Damon show something so much attention before," Annette said, grinning down at the display. "Well, besides you."

Bonnie half-smiled at her. "Yeah, he's really fallen in love with her."

"Has he named her yet?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. Sometimes he calls her 'little lady' but he just likes giving things nicknames."

"Well, whatever her name is, she left a 'gift' in your office…" Annette's brows hiked in sympathy before she walked off.

Sighing, Bonnie's head fell back. _Why_ did she think getting him a dog was a good idea?

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon was reading in bed, his head balanced on a pillow and his chin on his chest. He held the book with one hand and scratched his dog's ear as she lay sleeping on his stomach.<p>

Bonnie was going through her usual nightly routine; she looked back at him from her seat at her vanity, rubbing lotion into her legs. "You know, she's going to grow up and she's not going to be small… Eventually, you're going to have to train her to sleep in her own bed."

His brow furrowed as he finished of his paragraph and then looked over at her, laying his book down and covering the dog's ears with both his hands. "Shh. You'll hurt her feelings." He tisked. "Shouldn't you be happy we're letting her sleep with us? It creates a bond. She'll be attached. Meaning when someone breaks in, she'll save us."

"Unless they have a squeak toy with them," she snorted.

"She's young, she'll learn." He grinned down at her. "Just you watch, she'll be a great guard dog. She'll go right for the jugular."

Rolling her eyes, Bonnie made her way over to the bed, her satin nightgown sliding gently against her skin. Climbing into bed, she laid down beside him, propping her head on one hand while she reached out the other to stroke the dog's back. "Damon, face it, you've raised a softie."

"_Lies_," he denied. "She's fierce and protective."

Shifting in her sleep, his puppy made a faint squeaking noise, stretched her legs out, and then fell quiet again.

"Yeah, she's terrifying," Bonnie murmured, amused.

"She'll grow into it." He rubbed his fingers over her head and smiled gently as one of her legs kicked as she dreamed. "I always wanted a dog."

"Is she everything you dreamed of?"

He looked over at her, nodding. "She's pretty cute considering how much crap she leaves in the backyard."

Bonnie laughed. "It's the pretty ones you gotta watch out for. They sneak up on you."

"Yeah, those and the quiet ones." He eyed her thoughtfully before saying, "I never really thanked you."

"For what?" She raised an eyebrow. "It was your birthday. I know I complain about having to clean up after her, but I knew what I was getting into when I bought her…" She smiled then. "I took one look at her and I knew she was supposed to be yours."

"Not just for the dog. Although that too," he admitted.

Turning her head back, she looked up at him curiously. "What for then?"

"Everything." He shrugged faintly. "Being here, sticking around even when you didn't have to, putting up with me when I was annoying, taking my hand when everything was going bright white light… Who knows, if you didn't, I might not be here."

Humming thoughtfully, she shook her head. "You don't have to thank me for that… As far as I'm concerned, we saved each other. Held each other up. If we're at all healed from what happened, it's because we got through it together. So if you're going to thank me, I'll have to thank you. Instead, why don't we just be happy with it. No thanks needed."

"Okay." His mouth turned up on one corner. And then he said, "I picked out a name for her."

"Really? What'd that take, three weeks?" she teased.

He chuckled, low under his breath, and then said, "Mina."

"Mina," she repeated to herself, and then blinked, and gave his arm a shove. "Mina Murray."

He grinned. "I appreciate a classic."

Bonnie clucked her tongue at him, but then her eyes fell to the sleeping puppy and she smiled slowly. "I like it."

Nodding, he said, "Yeah, me too."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"How much longer before you think she's done?" Danny wondered, sitting on a crate, wiping his hands on a towel.<p>

"Not long," Damon answered, leaning back from his car. "I'm still waiting to hear back about a part and it needs some fresh paint, but she's nearly done."

"I know I razzed you in the beginning, but I gotta admit, she's really comin' along."

"Yeah, you're just sucking up," he scoffed. "Bonnie gets the first ride. I'll wave at you as we go by though."

Danny snorted. "You're a real saint, Salvatore."

He grinned. "Usually I hear the opposite, but that works too."

Shaking his head, Danny rested his arms on his knees. "You, uh, you said you worked on your old car with your brother..."

"Yeah. Stefan and I didn't have a whole lot in common, but we did love our classic cars."

Danny hummed thoughtfully. A few moments passed before he eventually said, "You don't mention him much."

Damon glanced at him, then shrugged. "Guess I don't."

"And he hasn't visited in five years…"

"No, he hasn't."

"So… you talk to him?"

"No." He paused, frowned, and then admitted, "Sometimes. When I'm _really _drunk."

"You call him, or…" Danny hedged carefully.

"Are you trying to ask if my brother's dead?" Damon asked, turning around to stare at him curiously.

He offered a faint smile. "Carla says I'm terrible at hinting."

"Carla's right."

"I just wondered, I guess. I mean, when you do talk about him, sounds like you guys got a pretty screwed up history together. But… brothers, right? Guess I figured there was only a few reasons why he wouldn't come to town."

"Not a lot of people do come to town, you ever noticed that?"

Danny shrugged, his gaze turning away, distant.

Damon frowned. "Well, since I know all too well how much not knowing will eat at you… Stefan did die, yeah. He, uh… He was saving his best friend, Caroline. Got killed for his effort. Tell you the truth, I think he was in love with her. He never said anything, but there were signs, you know? Anyway, Caroline was pretty screwed up after that. She was the peppy type, really positive all the time. Wasn't the same after Stefan…" Admittedly, she was more than a little ruthless after Stefan died, going so far as to kill boy-witch to force girl-witch into helping them get back everyone, with a few choice leftovers anyway.

"Must'a been hard… Losing your girlfriend and your brother."

"It was. It's been…" He paused, a lump burning in his throat. "You know, Stefan, he was… Serious. The broody kind. He used to frown all the time, get these wrinkles on his forehead. He was always trying to fix me, tell me how to be a better person. And I did everything possible to prove him wrong, to show him I couldn't change. And for some weird reason, he never really gave up hope…" He let out a laugh, faint and more than a little sad. "The funny thing is, I think he'd like who I was now. The life I built up here. He'd probably congratulate me. Tell me he was _proud _or something sappy like that…" His mouth turned up on one side. "He was a good guy. Obnoxious, self-righteous, boring. But good. In a way I was always kind of jealous of."

Danny hummed. "You miss him?"

"I do. Yeah." He ground his teeth a little. "More than I thought I would." He let himself linger on the thought, on the memory, for a little while, but then he shook it off, offered up a sarcastic grin, and said, "All right, enough of that. I'm starving. What about you? I think we've got some lasagna leftover from last night."

"If I wasn't hungry before, I am now. Lead the way, man."

Damon made his way inside, whistling so Mina would follow them.

Despite the lingering sadness that he didn't have Stefan around in his life, there was something that felt good about being able to share even a little bit of him, to talk about him with Danny. Maybe he'd do it more often. Couldn't hurt to try.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>They were dancing.<p>

Bonnie couldn't quite remember what brought it on, just that one minute she was walking through the dining room and the next Damon was twirling her around. Mina ran around underfoot, yapping, pawing at their legs, but Damon just continued to turn them around in a circle, his arm around her waist and his hand folded over hers. She liked when he got into moods like this. He was still in his work gear, his boots sounding loud on the floor, and he smelled like sweat and sawdust. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder while he hummed along to the music, his lips buzzing against her ear.

He held her hand to his chest, just short of her chin, his forefinger lightly tracing circles around her knuckles. And his other hand skimmed up, gently squeezing her shoulder before sliding back down, drawing circles on her lower back before it settled around her hip again.

She wondered sometimes if he missed being touched, missed the intimacy of a real relationship, and so he took what he could from her. She also couldn't help but wonder if sometimes he closed his eyes and imagined she was Elena and he was back home, back to normal. She never did though. She never imagined it was Jeremy's heart thumping away under her ear, his hand holding hers, his body that was so warm and firm and pressed close to hers. She never tried to imagine what Jeremy would smell like instead. And sometimes that bothered her. It made her feel guilty that she was so comfortable, so _content_ where she was. But as long as she never said it out loud, she didn't have to think about it.

"We should order in tonight," he said, his voice sounding deeper this close to her ear. She tried to ignore the shiver that rippled down her spine and bit her lip. "Light some candles, open a bottle of wine, make a night of it."

She nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Okay." He kissed the top of her head, and slowly pulled away from her. "I'm going to jump in for a shower. You wanna call in dinner?"

"Sure." She smiled, and willed her heart to stop thumping so loudly.

He grinned at her, and her heart skipped a beat.

As he turned on his heel to walk away, her smile fell, and she blinked. "Oh no."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Damon!" Bonnie shouted, though her voice sounded low coming through the wall.<p>

"What?" he yelled back, lifting his head from the box he was going through in the garage. Bonnie had reminded him that this was the fourth time he'd put off cleaning out the excess of junk filling up the garage, so he'd finally decided to get around to it. But cleaning meant periodically getting distracted looking through the boxes to see what he'd kept for no apparent reason. So far, all junk. He rather appreciated the distraction she was offering.

"Where'd we put the sleeping bags?"

He paused, his eyes turned up in thought. "Check the laundry room!"

"I did!"

Huffing irritably, he leaned back on his knees. "Check the storage closet!"

"Did that too!"

Frowning, he pushed up from the floor, dusted himself off and walked to the door, yanking it open and leaning his head inside. He remembered suddenly exactly where the bags were and rolled his eyes to himself. "Bon-nie…" he said in a sing-song voice.

She peeked her head around the corner from the hallway. "Da-mon," she mimicked him.

"You remember last month, when The Kid was planning for some big graduation camping trip…?" he said leadingly.

Realization dawned and her brows hiked abruptly. "Kayla borrowed it, that's right! _Duh_." Nodding, she started toward the kitchen for the phone, Mina nipping at her heels. "Thank you!"

"Hey!" he called after her, watching her retreating form. "_Why?_"

"Because." She turned on her heel to face him. "Annette is planning a big camp out for next week."

"I'm busy next week. We got that job rebuilding the pizza joint that burned down last month," he reminded her. "Al asked if I wanted some overtime so I told him I'd work the weekend. Car fund is getting low."

"I know. It's a girl's only retreat." She stuck her tongue out at him. "If it makes you feel better, I'll eat a s'more in your honor."

He rolled his eyes, but his mouth tipped up. "Sure. Rub it in."

She grinned then. "Don't worry… We can have a little camp out of our own when I get back. Me, you, a bag of marshmallows and the barbecue out back."

He smirked as she turned back around and walked off.

Shaking his head he pushed off the door. "I'm holding you to that," he called after her before ducking back into the garage to finish what he was doing.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Okay, I don't know about you ladies, but I'd be happy to drink a whole bottle of this wine all to myself," Naomi declared as she made her way into the living room and took a seat on the couch.<p>

Bonnie laughed, grinning at the women all sitting around her. "Well, there's plenty to go around. I picked up a bunch of snacks too."

"Good. I'm _starving_," Annette told her, leaning back against the bottom of an arm chair. "I haven't eaten since breakfast. I've been running around doing errands all morning."

"Are we making dinner or ordering out?" Carla asked, smiling thankfully at Naomi as she topped off her wine glass.

"I picked up food in case we wanted to cook, but I'm open to ordering out too. We have a bunch of flyers we can look through," Bonnie said, pushing up from her place on the floor and making her way into the kitchen.

The front door opened then and Damon stepped inside, his hands already up in apology. "I know, I know, I'm interrupting ladies night. I just need to grab something and then I'll be out of your hair." He hurried down the hallway, boots still on, and started searching around in the closet by the door leading into the garage. When he came back out, he had Mina's favorite chew toy with him. "She keeps chewing on Chris' furniture," he explained as he came back out, stuffing it in his pocket.

"Did you get her blanket?" Bonnie wondered. "She's still kind of nervous at other people's houses. It might be nice to have something familiar."

"I did. I grabbed it before I left."

"Did you bring food? She'll get hungry," she worried, starting toward the pantry, where they kept the large bag of dog food.

He grinned at her. "I got the food, yes." At her skeptical expression, he added, "More than enough, I promise."

"Fine. But if you need anything, call."

He chuckled at her and dipped his head to press a kiss to her cheek, his lips so low they nearly touched the corner of her mouth. "You're cute when you get all mother-hen."

Rolling her eyes, she swatted his arm. "Shut up. Go. Have fun. Tell Brandon and Chris I said hi."

He winked at her, nodding before he stepped through the kitchen and waved at the other ladies. "Have a good night, ladies."

"Bye, Damon!" they called after him as the door closed.

Bonnie moved to the drawer to dig out the menus and then rejoined the others, who were already discussing who would be painting whose nails and with what color.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"How'd you screw up your shoulder?" he wondered, taking a seat on the couch and motioning for her to join him.<p>

Sipping at her glass of wine, she walked over to sit on edge of the couch, between his parted legs. "I was lifting a box over my head and it's been bugging me ever since."

"You think you pulled something?" He tugged the neckline of her shirt down her arm, baring her shoulder, a thin bra strap crossing atop it.

"I don't know. It just hurts. Not hospital bad, but enough that I can't stop rubbing it." She winced as she let her head fall forward.

"Lemme see."

Damon gently brushed her hair over to her other shoulder before gently probing her neck until she said 'there.'

Nodding, he pinched his fingers down the curve of her neck, rubbing his thumbs in circles and kneading away the tension there. His hands made their way across the slope of her shoulder, kneading and massaging as they went. He ran the heel of one palm up the nape of her neck before curving his fingers around it and loosely rubbing down the side, taking careful notice of her breathing as she hummed appreciatively or groaned negatively. When he hit a particular knot, she let out a moan, her eyes falling to half-mast as she leaned back into his touch, her head lolling forward. Placing her wine on the coffee table, she laid her palms flat on her bare thighs, her jean shorts riding high.

Damon worked her over, slow and methodical, watching as she loosened up, resting much of her body weight back against his hands. Her skin was soft and warm and, for a moment, he couldn't help but stare at her neck and remember how it had used to mesmerize him. He'd only had one real taste of her, one bite, and it'd been in the heat of the moment, when his rage had hit a peak. He'd thought about it later, about how much better it could have been under different circumstances. Bonnie's blood was delicious, as most witch blood was, but hers had a special tang. She tasted like fire, like a barely tamed flame licking over his tongue and down his throat. He hadn't felt that kind of desperation for blood in a long time, but the memory stuck with him. The intimacy of having a body cradled against his chest as his mouth suckled at a willing (or, in some cases, unwilling) neck.

He was still massaging her as he leaned forward, breathing her in, her shampoo a light floral scent and the perfume she dabbed on her neck each morning a touch spicy. Her skin would taste a little salty, and his tongue suddenly felt heavy with the distinct desire to lick her. From the round curve of her shoulder, up her delectable neck, to right behind her ear, take the lobe between his teeth and nibble. She would lean back into him, her breath leaving her, slow and deep, and he would kiss down the strong line of her jaw, tilt her chin up, and take her lips. Bonnie had a beautiful mouth. Full and perpetually curved at the corners, like she was smirking at him, all knowing and judgy, just the way he liked her.

Want swamped him, heady and distracting, and his fingers twitched with how easy it could be. How _right _it could be, to just bring her back, hold her close to him, get lost in her. In every part of her. Bury his face in her hair and breathe her in, press his mouth to her skin, every inch of her skin, lose himself in her mouth and her eyes and the reaching, gripping, stroking touch of her hands reciprocating everything he gave her.

It was that thought —of _reciprocation_— that made him pause.

What if she didn't?

What if she was shocked or confused or weirded out by his advances?

They were friends. Good friends. _Best _friends. And they'd built a life together that hinged on trust and comfort. He couldn't afford to disrupt that. He couldn't afford to do anything that might result in losing her.

That didn't mean a part of him didn't want to try.

"Better?" he asked, his voice huskier than he wanted it to be.

"Mmm…" She nodded faintly. "Much. Thanks. It's been bugging me all afternoon." She didn't hurry to get away from him, instead resting her back against her chest, her eyes still half-closed, like she was sleepy, like she could just curl right up and drift away.

He didn't want her sleepy. He wanted her worked up. He wanted to know what she looked like when she was so hot she couldn't see straight. Her breathing strained, her body twisting up as she reached for him, inviting him closer, inviting him _in_.

His jaw ticked, the images in his head more than a little explicit. But it wasn't just that. It was the idea of what could come after. The slow breathing and the curling up together and stroking her hair back off her sweaty skin, kissing her slowly as she hummed with satisfaction. It was waking up in the morning with her there, looking up at him sleepily, naked and comfortable and happy to revel in it. He wanted that. He _missed _that. The sex, sure, but the intimacy that came with it. He wanted to know what Bonnie looked like when she was taken care of in every possible way, and he wanted to be the person taking care of her.

He dropped his head down, not quite thinking, and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, soft and delicate, lingering on her bare skin, his nose brushing faintly against the strap of her bra. His hand slid around her front, fingers splayed over her stomach.

Her breath left her slowly, a slight hitch to it, but she didn't pull away. She stayed where she was, her head against his shoulder, turned just a little to the side.

A beep came from the kitchen then, reminding him that he had food on.

Clearing his throat, he gave her thigh a pat before he lifted her up, hands scooped under her thighs, and easily put her on the cushion beside him. Shoving up from the couch, he made his way into the kitchen, walking a little funny, his jeans too tight. "You need a refill?" he asked her as she played with the stem of her wine, staring down into it, her cheeks flushed.

Her brow furrowed and her lips pursed, deep in thought. "Hm? Oh. Um." She nodded, and then tipped the glass back and drank it all in one guzzle. "Yeah, I think I do," she said, standing and making her way to where the bottle sat on the counter.

He watched her, wondering what was going through her head, if she felt that energy flowing between them too.

If she did, she didn't say anything, merely smiling at him, sipping at her wine, and circling around to stand next to him. "What're we making? Anything I can help with?"

He took it for what it was; a sign that everything was business as usual. Either she hadn't felt it, or she had and she wasn't willing to dissect it. He decided, staring down at her, that he would play along.

_For now_.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Bonnie!"<p>

"I'm coming! Hold on, hold on," she called back.

"Hurry up, it started."

Bonnie walked through the sliding glass door leading onto the back porch, two beers hanging from one hand and the Polaroid camera tucked under her arm. "Here," she said, handing him his beer before she took a seat on the arm of the chair he was sitting on.

Taking a sip, he leaned his head back and watched as the sky slowly lit with a crossing meteor.

Bonnie leaned back too, resting against his side.

Damon gave his lap a pat and Mina hopped up to sit with him, curling up in a ball and resting her chin on her paws.

"What do you think it really is?" Bonnie wondered, staring up at the sky as a white streak ran across it. "Could be souls crossing over. Whatever souls don't make it here. Maybe they land somewhere else, in a different place that's just like this one…"

"Or maybe it's just a meteor." He rubbed a hand over the small of her back soothingly. "I know we're isolated here, Bon. There's no getting out of town. But not everything's going to tie into heaven or death. Sometimes things just _are_."

"It just makes me think," she said, searching for the next flash of light while she picked at the label of her beer. "When that comet flew over Mystic Falls, I thought it was a harbinger of evil. The last time it'd been seen was when everything went wrong. It was like it was setting us up for disaster and… I wasn't wrong."

"What do you think about this one?" he wondered.

"I don't know." She let her head fall back as she gazed up at the serene sky, full of bright stars that winked at her. "It's beautiful, isn't it? Nature and the meteors and… this sleepy little town. It's like… It's everything Mystic Falls used to be."

"Before I came to town."

"I didn't say that." She looked back at him. "I know I blamed you for a lot of things, and some of them were warranted, but not all of them. You're not evil, Damon. You've done things, things that I know you wish you could take back or change or that you regret ever doing. But the past is in the past. And besides, we're not in Mystic Falls anymore. So if this is supposed to represent anything, it represents rebirth. A new beginning." She looked back up, watching one and then two and three meteors streak by. And she smiled.

"I like the sound of that," he said, squeezing his hand around her hip.

"Me too."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Mina was not a fan of traffic. Bonnie remembered this every time she took her for a walk and had to cross a street. Mina was also big enough now that picking her up to carry her across the road was not easy.<p>

"Mina, _please_," she begged, bending down near the dog, who had sat down as soon as they reached the crosswalk and hadn't budged for the last three light changes. "Come on, there's a treat for you if you just cross… Give a girl a break. I was supposed to be back in the shop twenty minutes ago. You know, if I didn't own it, I could be fired for this…"

Panting, Mina merely stared up at Bonnie with sad puppy eyes.

Bonnie looked away so they couldn't lure her into giving up and just setting down roots where she sat. "We can't stay here forever… You'll get hungry eventually."

"Need some help?"

Bonnie looked up abruptly, her brows hiked, and found a handsome man half-smiling down at her. He was tall, with tanned skin and warm hazel eyes.

"Lab, right? She's a good looking dog." He bent down to smile at Mina.

"Uh, yeah." Bonnie scrubbed her fingers behind Mina's ear. "She knows she's pretty. Personally, I think it's gone to her head."

Mina merely panted in her direction, her tail wagging as she looked up at the handsome stranger curiously.

"Caleb," he introduced himself, holding a hand out.

She shook his hand, and told him, "Bonnie."

"Nice to meet you, Bonnie." He motioned toward Mina and said, "I've got a golden retriever and two unfriendly cats at home."

"Unfriendly?"

"They were nice before I got the dog," he admitted, "but now I think they've dedicated their lives to spiting me."

Bonnie laughed. "Well, Mina's the only one in my house." She rubbed Mina's chest affectionately. "Which is probably good because she's a bit of an attention hog."

"Well, it looks like she's well loved, just a little scared of traffic. Better to be scared than too curious, I guess."

"She's definitely well loved. Her food dish can attest to that," Bonnie agreed. "But yeah, she's not too keen about crossing the road. What about your dog, does he mind?"

He grinned, and she was momentarily distracted by how handsome he was. "Radar will do anything for a walk; he doesn't let anything stop him."

"Radar. That's cute."

"So's Mina. It's unique."

"Ah. Yeah. Mina Murray." She shrugged, kissing Mina's snout before she stood upright and shook her legs out. "Any suggestions for getting her to cross the road?"

"Distraction usually works. Treats, favorite toy, favorite person... Anything like that."

Bonnie hummed and then dug around in her purse until she found Mina's favorite ball under her wallet. "What's this, huh?" She showed it to Mina, who stood excitedly, her tail wagging. "Come on, Meen. We cross this road and we're halfway to my shop. Then I'll get Brandon to play fetch with you in the alley, okay? He'll love a break from the stock room."

Mina, who tracked the ball with her eyes, didn't seem to pay any attention to the road as they crossed at the next light.

Caleb went along with them, smiling happily when they made it across without problem. "You have a shop around here?" he asked politely.

"Yeah, I own the herbal remedies store just down the block," she told him, amused as Mina pulled on her leash and yapped for her ball. "Sorry. I really should get back. Thank you for helping me out with the cross walk trick."

"Sure, anytime. Nice meeting you, Bonnie. Maybe I'll see you at your shop sometime."

"You too. It's half-off candles on Thursdays," she said before turning on her heel and walking away. As soon as she did, she frowned to herself. "_Half-off candles_. Ugh. Why do I even talk?" Bonnie tossed the ball over and Mina caught it between her teeth. "Come on, let's go pretend that embarrassing moment never happened. It'll be just between us girls, huh?"

Mina cheerfully followed her back to the store.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>The place they'd found to sit in the park was relatively quiet. She could still see and hear a lot of the other people, but they were far enough away that the noise wasn't getting on her nerves. With her back up against a large, old tree, Bonnie lost herself in a book, one of her hands absently stroking Damon's hair, his head in her lap.<p>

"Here. Taste this."

Bonnie glared up at him as he shoved a spoon between her lips. "Damon!"

"What?" He shrugged. "Tastes like cotton candy, right?"

Rolling the flavor around on her tongue, she nodded.

"Well I didn't _order _cotton candy. I wanted bubblegum."

She blinked at him. "Are we having this conversation? You sound like a grumpy eight year old."

"Don't harsh my vibe, Bon-Bon. I spent four dollars on this ice cream. I at least expect it to be the flavor I asked for."

"Well, it's a little too late for that now…" She eyed the container he held in his hand and said, "You ate half of it already."

"Right, so he only needs to replace _half_."

"I highly doubt he'll do that."

"Don't be a Debbie Downer, Bennett." He reached up and smeared ice cream on the tip of her nose, grinning as she let out an irritated noise.

Mina hopped up and quickly started licking at Bonnie's nose and the rest of her face, while Damon merely laughed. He reached over and scooped Mina up, putting her on his chest while Bonnie wiped the dog slobber away and frowned down at them.

"So… now that you're no longer reading, what do you wanna do? Feed some ducks, rent a two-person bicycle, take a paddle boat out on the water?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Mina doesn't like the water," she reminded. "_Or _ducks. And if the bike doesn't have a basket, things are going to get awkward."

"Well, look at that, Meen. You're ruining a perfectly good park date," he said, scrubbing Mina been the ears. "Here. Make me feel better. Attack those jocks playing Frisbee. I _hate _Frisbee." He turned her head in the direction of the guys playing in a nearby field, and nodded encouragingly. "Get 'em."

"_Damon…_" Bonnie rolled her eyes, and dug around in her bag, coming up with a ball. "Here. Why don't you two play fetch while I read my book?"

"That doesn't sound like a relaxing day for _both _of us..."

"Sure it does. As soon as you tire her out, you get to come relax with me again."

"Fine. But only because she saw the ball." He plucked it out of her fingers and rolled over onto his knees, standing from the grass and dusting himself off before he whistled, calling Mina to follow him as he gave the ball a long throw. Mina eagerly chased after it, scooping it up in her mouth and bringing it back, only to play keep-away with Damon for a while.

Bonnie smiled as she watched them, looking so happy with each other. Mina was getting bigger, but she was just as much a puppy as the day they got her. She still loved to cuddle and spent entirely too much time sleeping in their bed. Bonnie didn't have the heart to kick her out. At least not yet.

Eventually, she went back to her book, but a few chapters in, Damon finally came back to sit with her, his head immediately finding her lap once more while a tired Mina flopped down beside them, panting.

Bonnie reached for her bag once more and dug out a book for Damon, handing it to him so he could read too.

They spent much of the afternoon like that, and she loved every moment of it.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Chris put the salsa down on the table, already cluttered with various other dips, and then flopped back in his favorite arm chair. He grabbed up his beer off the side table and asked, "What's the score?"<p>

Damon scooped up a handful of nacho chips. "Twelve-nothing."

"Still?"

"You were gone two minutes, what'd you think happened?"

"A miracle, clearly." Chris sighed, taking another drag of his beer. "You hear about Randy?"

Damon grinned slowly. "You mean, did I hear about his wife serving him divorce papers and then loudly announcing to a full restaurant that she's been sleeping with the pool boy since they have the same taste in men? _Yeah_. I heard."

Chris snorted. "Where do you even pick this gossip up from?"

He shrugged. "Depends. Some of it I hear at work, some of it I get from Naomi when I drop by the store. And I've got a few other sources; there's a waitress at Sadie's that likes to tell me who's hooking up with who. I think she's gonna start a blog…"

"Lucrative."

"Could be, if she played her cards right." Cheering from the screen caught their attention then, but it was nothing to get excited about. Looking back over at Chris, he wondered, "Where's Brandon at?"

"Errands. He had a few things he had to pick up. He's making dinner tonight." He grinned then. "Taco night."

"He use cilantro or lettuce?"

"Hell if I know. I just know they taste good."

The front door opened then, admitting exactly who they'd been talking about. "Hey guys, you wanna help me bring the groceries in? I picked up more than I expected."

Damon dropped his beer to the table and stood up from the couch. "Hey Brand-o," he greeted, putting his shoes on. "Question. Do you use cilantro or lettuce for your tacos? Bonnie hates cilantro, but I'm of the mind that if I lie and say it's lettuce, she'll realize she's wrong."

Brandon snorted. "I use both, actually. I mix them together. Cilantro can be a little strong, the lettuce sets it off."

"Sneak it right past her. _Perfect_," he said, grinning.

Shaking his head, Brandon offered, "You and Bonnie can come over for dinner tonight, if you want. More the merrier. I picked up extra."

Damon looked over to Chris curiously, but when he shrugged, Damon said, "Sure. Sounds good to me. This way if she doesn't like it, it's not on me. I'll call her, see if she's up for it. Is there anything we can bring?"

"More beer," Chris told him.

"Sold."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon loved Sundays.<p>

He wasn't quite sure why it had become one of their _things_ except that neither of them complained about it. Sundays meant sleeping in, a favorite pastime of his. But it also meant having Bonnie all to himself for a couple sleepy hours. One could make an argument that he got Bonnie to himself quite a lot, but this was different. In that half-awake, half-asleep plain they existed on, their guards were down. He didn't hesitate, putting his arms around her, drawing her close, their legs tangled together. He could feel her breath, warm on his chest, her fingers lightly skimming over his side or his back, never in any set pattern, just always moving, touching, stretching and reaching.

This was his escape. A brief moment in time where he didn't second guess himself, didn't wonder how his feelings for her could have grown so much without him even knowing. And they had. Maybe they always were. But from the moment they'd arrived in this magicless, painless world, something had shifted. He got to see Bonnie in a completely different light. He watched her break down and pull herself back together, he saw her work herself to the bone and realize how important her own value was. He was there for her when she cried herself to sleep, missing their friends and family. He held her hand through the patches and the good moments and right on through as they found their footing and made a life for themselves.

Nothing scared him as much as that day he came home and she wouldn't wake up, laying on the couch, exhausted, the whole day passing by and little more than a twitch from her. Realizing she was ready to push herself to the brink to get him home was an eye-opening experience. Damon could count on one hand how many times people willingly put him before themselves. He'd gotten good at being selfish, since nobody ever saw fit to put him first. Knowing that Bonnie was one of the few was more humbling than he'd expected. She was strong. One of the strongest people he knew, powers or not. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, Bonnie put the rest of them to shame. And he admired that. He admired her for a lot of reasons, but that ranked high.

Falling for her wasn't in the plan.

Truth be told, he wasn't even sure he had a plan. His world went dark, then white, then lit right up and gave him something he'd never been prepared for. And now that he had it, now that he was ready to _keep _it, he was waking himself up to a few things. The life he wanted now, the life he had, was amazing, and there was only one more thing that could make it perfect. Not perfect in that way he'd always thought he wanted, where he ignored the cracks and the splinters and the incompatibilities. Not perfect like he blinded himself with obsession and let everything else burn in his quest to _possess _someone. Perfect like it was imperfect. Perfect in the way they argued and disagreed and stood on their own two feet, individual, made of everything they were, good and bad. Perfect in their contrasts, in their opposite opinions and actions, in the balance they found. He didn't expect her to fill up the parts of him that felt empty. He didn't expect her to live up to the image of someone he'd loved more than a century and a half ago. He expected her to be herself, whatever that meant.

Her eyes were barely open, a sleepy smile turned up her lips, where the crust of dried drool lingered. Her hair was wrapped and her morning breath no doubt stunk. Her lips were a little chapped and the placed she'd elbowed him in the night still smarted. But she was still the most beautiful thing he had in his life. The most beautiful face he'd ever woken up to. The most beautiful voice he'd ever heard, even when she was nagging and complaining and saying his name in that warning, exasperated way of hers. She was beautiful and imperfect and entirely unexpected in every way.

He stroked his finger over the arch of her cheek, his mouth turning up when her nose wrinkled at the ticklish sensation. His fingers skimmed down her neck and around to her nape, gently kneading, watching as she hummed happily and arched her back, leaning into him. Her head fell forward and she snuggled in closer, resting her forehead on his chest while her hand slid up his back, tucked under the fabric of his shirt, fingertips digging into his skin. He wondered sometimes, if she had any idea the effect she had on him, but he didn't imagine she did. For all that Bonnie was smart, she could be completely blind to what was going on right in front of her.

Maybe that was partly his fault. Maybe they'd spent so much time getting closer that him reaching out, him trying to make his intentions known, were too similar to what they were always like. He'd always been a physical person, and he'd been extra affectionate with her for years now. She was all he had and he'd clung to that, he realized that now. But this was different. This was bred of that, yes, but of all the things before too. Of the hate and the rage and the distrust that had enveloped them for the two years they'd spent in a battle of wills. It was born of sacrifice and selfish obligation to people who weren't there now. He wasn't forgetting or rewriting their past, that wouldn't do them any good. But he was growing. And so was she. Maybe it would take time for her to look at him the way he did her. He could wait. He could be patient. In the meantime, he could do everything in his power to show her that he could be good for her. He could love her the way she deserved.

Rubbing his hand down her arm, he squeezed lightly, and then closed his eyes, content to enjoy the rest of their morning wrapped up each other.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie grinned as she watched Damon and Mina circle each other down on the beach. Damon was holding Mina's favorite ball just out of reach, teasing her, laughing as she leapt up to try and grab it from his hand. Curled up in a worn, wooden chair, her legs tucked under her and a throw blanket over her lap, Bonnie held a mug of hot coffee between her hands as she watched them, a warm fondness flooding her chest.<p>

After working overtime the last few weeks, Damon had wanted some time off, so Bonnie had called in a favor and asked if they could borrow Danny's cabin for the week-long vacation they were taking. She was happy to spend it watching Damon and Mina chase each other all over the place, which was exactly what they did for the most part. Damon dragged out the barbecue to cook them dinner, spoiling Mina with scraps. In the mornings he went for a jog around the lake, Mina keeping up beside him. Bonnie preferred swimming, especially when the beach was still empty and the water still. It was peaceful.

As Damon started back up the beach toward the cabin, he tossed the ball for Mina to chase after, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she ran across the green grass, sniffing out her ball.

Damon came to a stop just in front of Bonnie on the cabin porch, his bare feet covered in sand, water dripping down his legs, his hair more than a little wild, and a happy flush to his cheeks. He was beautiful. He always had been, but in that moment he was ridiculously stunning. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared up at him.

"You having fun up here?" he asked, flopping down in the chair beside her and stacking his hands on his stomach.

"Tons."

He raised an eyebrow over at her. "What're you reading?" he wondered, looking down at the closed book on the table between them.

She shook her head. "I brought that out for you."

Damon turned it over and skimmed a few pages, his mouth turning up. "More poetry… You're getting to be an addict, Bon-Bon."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, her mouth turned up at the corners. Her attention was drawn to the floor of the porch as Mina flopped down, laying her stomach on Bonnie's toes as she panted, her ball rolling out of her mouth and toward Damon.

Bonnie let the stillness of the moment sink into her skin. She closed her eyes and focused on the heat filling her hands from her coffee, the aroma of it mixing with the earth and the nearby water. She let the steady thumping of Mina's heart against her feet lull her into comfort. She forgot about work, about home, about the intricately woven _other _world they lived in. All she knew was that moment, of her and Damon and Mina, in a cabin in the woods, isolated but not alone, warm and content.

She lived for these moments. Where everything else faded and left only them. Like their Sunday mornings and their dancing and their late-night walks through the quiet town. There was just something about them that made each moment feel like it was carved out for only them, like the world bent to accommodate them, time slowing down and sound fading. In times like these, she could lose herself in Damon's hand folded with hers, in the way his body leaned into hers, like it expected to find its equal to meet him halfway, in the air that circulated between them, shared. Even with the little space between them now, she still felt close to him.

His voice reached across to her, low and heavy, his tone rich with something she'd done a good job of ignoring for a while now. But his words wrapped themselves around her, dug in through her chest and burrowed into her heart; waking, stirring, inciting.

_In my sky at twilight you are a cloud  
>and your form and colour are the way I love them.<br>You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips  
>and in your life my infinite dreams live.<em>

_The lamp of my soul dyes your feet.  
>My sour wine is sweeter on your lips,<br>oh reaper of my evening song,  
>how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!<em>

_You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's  
>wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.<br>Huntress of the depths of my eyes, your plunder  
>stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.<em>

_You are taken in the net of my music, my love,  
>and my nets of music are wide as the sky.<br>My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.  
>In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.<em>

When she opened her eyes, she didn't look at him right away, letting his words linger in her ears, letting them settle inside her.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, closing the book and putting it aside. He stood from his chair then and moved to stand in front of her.

She raised her head, leaning it back against the chair, and stared up at him, examining every inch of his handsome face.

He bent then and her heart went still as she felt his breath warm against her lips. Her gaze fell to his mouth, heat simmering just under her skin. He tipped his head to the side, bypassing her mouth, though she felt just the faintest brush of his top lip touch her bottom. And then his lips were pressing a kiss to her cheek. Lingering there, making it feel like it lasted much longer than the scant three seconds it was. The pressure felt good, like it reached far beyond her cheek. And she found herself wondering what he might do, what _she _might do, if she turned her head just a little and let his lips skim over her own, if she let herself sip at his mouth, nibble and suck at his lips, her teeth digging in just enough to stake a claim. But then his mouth was gone, out of reach, and he said, "I'm going to make you something."

She hummed, and watched, from the corner of her eyes, as he left, Mina quick at his heels.

Her eyes moved back out toward the lake then and she slumped a little lower in her chair, sipping at her coffee. One of her hands found her cheek, her fingers ducking toward her lips, and she realized with a tidal wave of finality that what she felt wasn't simple at all.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie paced the length of her living room floor, her hands wringing, while Naomi watched her, more than a little amused. Her mouth tilted in a faint smile as she kept track of Bonnie's hurried steps.<p>

"Ready to talk about it yet?"

How was she supposed to explain this? So far as Naomi was concerned, Bonnie and Damon had been together seven years. Why would she find it at all surprising that Bonnie was… That she felt… That her heart…

"Is this about Damon?" Naomi wondered curiously.

Bonnie stiffened, biting her lip.

"You had a nice time at the cabin, I take it?"

"Mm-hmm." She nodded her head jerkily. "It was great. Quiet and peaceful. Exactly what we needed."

"I take it something happened though… Something that's got you jumpy."

"I… It's complicated. And confusing. I don't… I'm not sure how to explain it." She ran her hands over her face and pushed them back through her hair. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to explain any of the last five years without sounding like she'd been lying from the get-go. Naomi was one of her closest friends. And she'd kept this from her. From all of them. Because it was easier, and she hadn't been sure what was going on in the beginning, if they might have a chance to go home. So it just made sense to go along with the pre-made life they'd been given. But now it was complicated. _Really _complicated. And she didn't have Caroline or Elena to talk it over with. So…

Taking a deep breath, she said, "Damon and I… We… I…" She shook her head. Where did she start? What could she say that would make sense? "Ugh, this is so screwed up. None of it was supposed to be like this. This wasn't what I expected when Grams' said I'd find peace. I thought white lights and fluffy clouds and, I don't know, harps or something. Not… Not this. This was never in the plan. _He _was never in the plan. And now… Now I…"

"Now you're fallen in love with him, and you have no idea what you're supposed to do. After all, your relationship has been platonic since you got here. Sure, you played at more and you flirted, but that was all an act. The truth is, all you had was each other, so you held on tightly, and now you realize you held on _too _tight, and you're not sure you want to let go."

Bonnie stood completely still, her eyes wide, and then she turned around, looking at Naomi searchingly. "I… _How? _How did you…?"

Naomi offered a faint smile. "Because I died. I _know _I died. And from what I can tell, you and Damon are the only other two who've figured that out. You were pretty good at hiding it, but there were a few tells, especially in the beginning."

Mouth gaping a little, she shook her head. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She shrugged. "You weren't ready to talk. You were still getting used to it. For all I knew, you liked it how it was, you didn't want to disrupt it. I know the feeling. I had my children with me, I was willing to do anything to keep them that way."

"That must've been hard for you too though…" Bonnie worried.

"It was, but it's okay now. I'm happy with my life; it's much better now than it was when I was alive." Naomi smiled and leaned forward in her seat. "Look, I didn't tell you so we could commiserate, although we can, after. Right now, I want you to tell me about what happened that's got you so skittish. Clearly something was said or done that's making you look ready to run, so what is it?"

Bonnie blew out a long breath, her head still more than a little distracted with what she'd learned. And she did want to know more, about the how or why of this world, if Naomi knew those answers. But, they had time for that, so maybe, for once, she could be a little selfish and just deal with her current issue. "I have feelings for Damon. Feelings I've tried really hard to ignore. _Deep _feelings."

Naomi waited patiently for her to get it all out.

"I… Before. Before we came here, we weren't close. We were only kind of friends, mostly out of necessity. To be honest, we would have happily sacrificed each other any day of the week. Or, at least, that's what I always thought. But being here… Relying on each other, _trusting _each other, it… We were all we had. And he is so… ugh, infuriating sometimes. He drives me crazy. But somehow, I don't know, over time that became weirdly _endearing_. And after a while, it became something I liked, something I _wanted _in my life, and now I can't imagine my life without it… without _him_. Which is simultaneously crazy and yet… _not_." She twisted her hands together. "Damon is… abrupt and unapologetic and cunning. He—He's sarcastic and arrogant and passionate and loyal. He'd do anything for the people he loves, sometimes things I can't get behind, and other times things I could never do myself but know, in their own way, are still the right thing to do. The necessary thing to do. He… He pushes me and argues with me and even after our worst fight, he'd still walk to the ends of the earth for me. I know that. I… I know that he loves me. What I don't know, what I'm _scared _to know, is whether he's _in_ love with me. Or if he could be. Or even if I _want _him to. Because that's all I keep asking myself. Does it make sense, is it worth risking everything for, is it even _possible_…? And I don't know. I don't… I have no idea, but part of me wants to. Part of me wakes up in the morning and all it wants is to kiss him. I don't know what to do about that."

Naomi nodded slowly and reached for Bonnie's hand, tugging on it and leading her over to take a seat on the couch beside her. "I'm going to give you some advice that my grandmother gave to me when I wasn't much older than you."

"Okay."

"You can spend your life dreaming and wanting, or you can spend your life _doing_. Doing doesn't promise good things. It doesn't promise the result you want. But it does promise you won't look back in ten or twenty years and wonder what could have been if you'd only tried. You and Damon, you might not be meant for more than friends, I can't promise that it won't end in disaster. I can't promise that you won't fall in love only to eventually fall out of love. Nobody can promise you that. But I do know what I've seen. I know that he adores you, that he would do anything to make you happy, that he lights up as soon as he sees you, and that you, Bonnie, are the exact same when it comes to him." She smiled at her gently. "If you want my advice, don't hold back. This is our one, and possibly _only_, chance at getting life right, the way we want and deserve. I don't know what happens if we die again. But I do know this. I will do everything in my power to be happy, to make my kids happy, and I think you should do the same."

Bonnie let her words fill her, she let them roll around in her head. She let her heart thump wildly in her chest with the possibility of what it could mean. And then she offered Naomi a hopeful smile and said, "You're right."

Just then, the front door opened, and Damon stepped into the house, a happy Mina by his side. He raised his head and grinned at Bonnie, a lopsided smile that made her heart flutter.

Letting out a faint sigh, she smiled back at him, and hoped she was making the right choice. Because, whatever happened, she didn't want to lose him.

[**Next**: Chapter Eight.]

* * *

><p><strong>author's note<strong>:_ i know you guys were hoping for a kiss, and technically, there was one when he kissed her shoulder, because that was the first kiss between them that wasn't strictly platonic. that said, however, you will get one next chapter that is a lot more... passionate. this chapter was meant to highlight the development of their feelings. as you can see, damon's already come to his conclusion, but he's being careful, testing the waters to see how bonnie feels and what she'd be open to. he's also leaving not so subtle hints in terms of the poem. bonnie has only just finally realized what all of her feelings really meant and needed some advice from someone she trusted. _

_which, brings me to a mystery solved! naomi remembers dying (that will be explained more next chapter) which means *drum roll* yes, the people in this world are (mostly) dead. i say mostly 'cause there's a catch with one particular person in this world, besides damon and bonnie, but you won't find out who or why until the end. in any case, the people on this side died and they've been collected in this little slice of peace._

_i'm excited we're getting to the romance now, the real romance, because you have no idea how hard it is to write this close relationship between them and not get really intimate. like i've had to delete parts where damon's hands wander because it was too close for friends. but we're getting their now. so much cuteness and hotness to come, i hope you're ready._

_thank you all so much for reading, i'm deeply sorry for the long wait, though look how long this chapter was, so maybe that compensates? i'll try to update sooner, i've just been busy with my finals and pissed over the latest ep of tvd (damn you for everybody screwing over bonnie, but also thank you for damon's sincere concern for her)._

_poem was: **in my sky at twilight** by **pablo neruda**._

_please leave a review!_

**- lee | fina**


	8. better than

**VIII**.

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE AND A 12 YEARS**

* * *

><p>For the record, Damon used to be good at this 'romancing' stuff. Sure, it took him a while to get Elena to see the light, but the point was she <em>did<em>. And there were women before her; he had a hundred and forty-five years to waste, women came and went, sometimes literally, sometimes they stuck around for a few weeks. All right, so admittedly long-term relationships weren't his forte. But he was changing that. And things with Bonnie were different; they had a solid five years of friendship built up between them, that was the kind of foundation he could really work with. He knew Bonnie. What she liked, what she did for fun, what her ticks were, what she would put up with and what she would never let pass. He'd spent so much time with her, had seen her at her best and worst, had been the target of her rage and her comfort; by now, he could write a book on her. A best seller, too.

The tricky part with wooing his favorite little witch was that they'd reached a point in their friendship where distinguishing his actions as romantic rather than friendly was becoming more difficult than he expected. He'd been affectionate with her for so long, that she didn't blink at the little touches, the prolonged hugs, the way he held onto her or cuddled her. And flirting was one of his natural settings, so when he did it with her, she either ignored him or played along. Which left him in a conundrum. How was he supposed to show her things were different, that he wanted more, without scaring her off? He couldn't be too obvious, couldn't jump in with both feed forward, even if that had always been his MO, because this was _Bonnie_. They had history, not all of it good, but enough of it that she would spook, want to do the 'right' thing and not complicate their relationship. She was too noble, too self-sacrificing, she'd probably throw Jeremy and Elena in it too, just to light the 'we shouldn't' fire. He didn't want that. He didn't want to play the pro-con game with her when she would already have it in her head that being together would be wrong, or only end in disaster.

No. Instead, he was going to be sneaky about it. Just a little less sneaky than usual. He would have to get her to fall in love with him without even realizing that was what she was doing. Which meant he'd have to step up his game just subtly enough that she knew he was being romantic without being _too _romantic. Which complicated things, because usually when he was making a game plan Bonnie was the one who helped him figure it out. Oh, he could get the brass tacks down fine, but she always swept in with a little finesse to make sure things went smoothly.

That was really just a tick toward a relationship; once again, she balanced him out. The calm to his storm.

Unless they were out of ice cream; in which case, _Bonnie _was the storm.

"Damon! I know I left a pint of Ben and Jerry's in the freezer."

He frowned, eyes turned off to the side. Yeah, he ate that. "Uh… No, I think you ate that. You remember that one night, with the wine, and you had a long day at work…"

Ducking her head into the garage, she raised an eyebrow. "Be a little more vague, I might just believe you."

He grinned at her and then dropped his gaze down to the dog between them, her tail wagging cheerfully. "Back me up here, Mina. Mommy ate all of her ice cream, didn't she?"

Mina, excited by the attention, walked over to him, rubbing against his leg and panting.

"See. Definitely happened." He pointed a wrench at Bonnie. "_But_, because I like you, I'll go pick you up some more. We need more milk anyway."

"Uh-huh." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want Chunky Monkey though."

"Then why were you complaining I—" He paused. "I mean, _you _ate it…"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I was going to eat it when it was all I had. Now I have options. Chubby Hubby."

"Excuse you." He frowned. "That was rude."

Snorting, she bit her lip to hide her amusement. "Damon, I meant the ice cream."

"Oh. Well, fine. But my feelings are still hurt."

Shaking her head, she walked down the single stair to the basement. "Yeah?" She reached for him, her arms wrapping around his waist. "Which one?"

"All of them," he said, tipping his head down to look at her. "You should kiss it better."

She hummed. "That's a lot of feelings to kiss."

Tapping her nose, he told her, "Sure, but it's the right thing to do."

Grinning, she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. And then she rested her chin on his chest. "Better?"

"Be better with ice cream."

"You better go get us some then." Releasing him, she stepped back. "You should take Mina; she needs a walk."

"Oh, so now I have to get it at the corner store," he complained. "They charge twice as much as the grocery store."

Laughing to herself, she walked back to the garage door, saying, "Okay, Old Man Salvatore. Try not to pinch those pennies too much."

"You're a small business owner, Bon. We have to be _thrifty_."

Scrunching her nose up at him, she said, "Say that again when you don't still have a classic car out here that doesn't run."

"I _told_ you… She runs. She just needs paint."

"So what's that wrench for then?"

"Aesthetic. I'm trying to work the hot mechanic look." He leaned back against the car and smirked at her, wiggling his eyebrows. "Is it working?"

"It'd work better with—"

"Ice cream," he sighed, dropping his head back. "Fine. We're going." He whistled to get Mina's attention. "Walk?"

Hopping up excitedly, Mina started running around in circles.

Bonnie walked over to the closet and grabbed out the leash before bringing it back and holding it out for him.

Taking it, he hooked it around Mina's collar and gave Bonnie a nod. "You coming?"

Shaking her head, she said, "No way, I'm in my lazy pants."

His mouth twitched as he glanced at her favorite sweatpants. "You mean your cute and housebound pants?"

"Exactly." She was about to turn around, but brightened up and added, "See if they have any whipped cream."

Damon smirked. "Why? And make it naughty."

"Because we're out. And I want pancakes tomorrow. I picked up blueberries, but I forgot to grab whipped cream."

He frowned at her. "That wasn't naughty at all. I'm extremely disappointed in you." He started toward the front of the garage, the door raised. "Anything else?"

"No, I'm good."

He grinned back at her, "As you wish, Little Bird." With a wink, he turned and started jogging down the driveway, Mina keeping up beside him.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Like, remembers her whole life and everything?"<p>

Bonnie nodded, leaning against the doorway as Damon brushed his teeth, toothpaste dribbling down his chin a little. "Yeah, I meant to tell you earlier, I've just been distracted." Thinking about how she had feelings for him, and having no idea what to do about them. "Anyway, she told me she died the same day we did. She woke up with a house and her kids and Annette calling her to carpool. She's just kind of gone with it, same as us, ever since."

"Huh." He stared off thoughtfully, pausing to spit out a gob of white toothpaste. "You know what this means?"

She nodded slowly. "That there might be others that know too."

"Sure, that. But this means it's permanent."

She frowned. "How?"

"Think about. It's probably just like what you were saying when we had that meteor shower. There's pocket towns all over the place, a little second chance at life kind of heaven. Everybody who died the same day as us were probably scattered around in places like this. Sucks we didn't get some Maui-reject instead of Small Town, USA."

Bonnie paused, her eyes on the floor. "How does that make it permanent though?"

He rinsed his toothbrush off and tossed it in the cup beside hers. Crossing the space between them, he took her by the hips and pulled her forward a few inches so they were better facing each other. "Bon, Sheila said you would be at peace. What if she knew there were places like this and she made it so instead of oblivion, instead of not existing at all, anywhere, she just made sure we went here instead. One way ticket to paradise. We thought, when she said peace, she meant there'd be a loophole, that there might be a way to go back, but what if it's the opposite. What if peace is death? Think about it, we're in the safest place ever. There's almost no crime, the worst we have to deal with is a racist old lady who, frankly, I _enjoy_ annoying at this point." He stared down at her searchingly. "Maybe your grimoire wasn't a sign to get your magic back, maybe it was just a memento of your family. We came here with nothing of our own, and she just wanted you have something to remember her by."

Bonnie's eyes burned. "You think?"

He kissed her forehead before pressing his own to hers and sighing. "Look, I don't know what it means. I do know that these people weren't just magicked into existence. They were alive and now they're not. I'm guessing Naomi isn't a witch, but she remembers too, so we're not different, we're not special, there's no loophole. I don't know what that means later. If, in fifty years, we can still bite the big one, or if we just reboot, start this all over again, or go to some other isolated town somewhere. But at least this way you don't need to take a crack at magic again. No more exhausting yourself. No more wondering."

She nodded, swallowing tightly. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."

He half-smirked then. "Course I am. Haven't you learned anything after all this time? I'm always right."

She raised an eyebrow then. "Always right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Damon, I can name three times, right now, that you were absolutely wrong."

"Three? That's all you got?" he teased.

"One…"

She knew he was trying to distract her, but she let him. It was a difficult situation. As much as she had somewhat accepted that their life there was in a state of possible permanency, it came with so many uncertainties. Did that mean pursuing him was okay? That, because they would never be getting home, he would have a real chance of getting over Elena? Did that mean she would never, _ever _see her best friends again, and was she okay with that? Did that mean that loving this life, enjoying it, didn't have to make her guilty anymore?

Maybe. Maybe to all of the above.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Hey Bon, what are we doing for Halloween this year?" Damon wondered, looking up from the newspaper, his brow furrowed.<p>

Bonnie paused in spreading apricot jam over her toast. "Isn't Danny having his party?"

"Yeah, but what are we going as?"

She rolled her eyes. "Damon, every time I try to think up awesome joint outfits, you decide at the last minute to go as a 'classic bad boy' character."

He pursed his lips. "Do not."

"Last year you were Danny Zuko. Which would've been fine, except you didn't tell me until three days before the party, so I couldn't dress up as Sandy."

"That's a lie. You have black hot pants," he reminded.

"Hey, Sandy wore the hot pants for _good _Danny, not bad boy Danny."

He waved it off. "Technicalities."

Snorting, she rolled her eyes. "You just want me to wear hot pants."

He smirked then. "True."

Clucking her tongue, she said, "And the year before that you put on that awful red hat, stole one of Peter's cigarette's, and told everybody you were Holden Caulfield."

He shrugged, smiling at the memory. "That was a pretty accurate outfit, minus the hair."

"Year before that, you were James Bond and you filled that water gun with vodka."

"I shared that vodka with everyone," he defended.

"You sprayed unsuspecting people in the face with it."

"In the general direction of their mouths," he corrected.

"And our first Halloween you were Dally from The Outsiders, which was probably your most accurate outfit."

"Okay, A) I asked you to be my Johnny, so that shouldn't even be on the list. And B) that wasn't technically our first Halloween, that was just the first time we dressed up and went to the party. The first Halloween, you handed out candy to annoying kids."

"While you tried to scare them every time you opened the door."

"I had to get my kicks somewhere," he mused. "I was still coming down from not being a vampire."

"That's no excuse."

"It wasn't an excuse, it was a fact."

She sighed. "_Damon_."

"Look, fine, yes, I know I always screw up our outfits, but this is me actively participating in _picking _the outfits. You wanted us to go as Fred and Wilma Flintstone one year. I can't pull off caveman, Bonnie."

"No, you can't _bowl_. You _are _a caveman." Taking a bite of her toast, she asked, "So? What costumes are you suggesting then?"

"Batman and Catwoman," he tossed out.

"No."

He pouted. "Why?"

"Because, the party's always packed. I'm not wearing leather all night. I'll sweat and it will chafe."

He sighed, long and disappointed. "Fine."

"What about Rocky Horror Picture Show?" She grinned. "You have the legs for it."

"I do," he agreed. "But I don't wanna be in heels all night. Marilyn Monroe and Elvis!"

"Mmm… maybe. Uhura and Spock."

"Nerd. Are you going to complain if I don't do my eyebrows like his?" he wondered.

"They're a defining feature!"

He grumbled disagreeably. "What about that frog princess you like?"

"Tiana and Naveen…" She tipped her head thoughtfully.

A horn honked outside and Damon sighed, folding up his newspaper. "We'll talk about it after work." He circled the table and bent to kiss her cheek. "Don't work too hard." He grabbed his lunch and his jacket and was just walking out the door before he paused suddenly. Inspired, he looked back and said, "Morticia and Gomez Addams."

Bonnie looked over, surprised, and then grinned. "Deal."

At another horn honk, he rolled his eyes, pressed his fingers to his lips, kissed them, and waved. "We'll talk details later. Have a good day!"

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie honestly didn't recognize him at first. She was finishing up a sale with a customer and had waved politely as a new one stepped inside and soon began browsing around. Bonnie left Annette to go and engage him, offer to show him around, find something specific, etcetera. So it was a little while later, after Annette came back and whispered that he was cute, that Bonnie finally noticed him again, as he was coming up to pay.<p>

"Half-off candles today, right?"

"It is, yeah," she said, looking up to smile. She paused and her smile widened into a grin. "Caleb, right?"

He nodded. "Bonnie?"

"That's me."

"You have a nice shop." He took a look around and placed the candles on the counter in front of her. "Have you had it long?"

"A little over five and a half years. I moved here from New York," she said.

"New York, wow. What made you move out here?"

"I grew up in a small town, so it was familiar." She shrugged. "It was a… complicated situation. But starting over out here ended up being a great decision. New town, new friends, new shop. Can't ask for much more."

"That's good. I've never lived in a big city; I'm a small town boy all the way. A lot of my friends traveled, moved to the city, but I stuck around. I grew up wanting to be a fireman, and started training as soon as I finished high school. Now here I am, still fighting the good fight."

"A fireman, wow. That must be… terrifying. And gratifying, I guess."

"Both." He nodded. "But I like it. Saving lives, I think it adds something to mine. Growing up, my mom always taught me to be to think of others, put myself in their shoes, and I guess that's just ingrained."

"There weren't any less deadly jobs you could get into? Ones that didn't involve risking your life."

He chuckled, shrugging. "Probably."

"So a thrill seeker…" she deduced, looking him over. "What else do you do?"

"Uh, well, I volunteer a lot. Fish, hike, I like being in nature."

"Same," she agreed. "I don't know, I've always felt better when I was outside. Naomi and I hike a lot. Maybe we'll run into you sometime."

"Naomi?" he asked, looking curious.

"My best friend, and store manager, but she's not in today. Her son has a cold."

"Ah, kids." He nodded, scratching his fingers over his chin. "I don't have any myself."

"Me neither. I think Mina's enough of a handful," she said, looking over to see Mina snoring away on her bed, her leg randomly twitching.

The bell above the door rang then, signaling another customer. Bonnie looked around Caleb to the door and waved. "Arthur, hey. We just got a shipment in… Just give me a second to finish this up and I'll be right with you."

"Thanks, Bonnie," he said, moving to the aisle to look at a few things.

Turning back to Caleb, she grinned. "All right, let's see how much you saved on your candle shopping today." She looked over the collection in front of her, smiling as she saw a single cinnamon amongst the rest. "You really wanted a variety, huh?"

He grinned at her, looking a little flushed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "What can I say? I'm a man who loves a deal."

She smiled and rang him up.

When he had his bagged candles, receipt and change in hand, she walked with him toward the door. "It was good seeing you, Caleb."

"You too. I might have to stop in more often," he replied.

"That'd be great. Have a good afternoon."

"Thanks. See you, Bonnie." He stepped outside, waving at her through the window as he walked away.

Bonnie waved back before making her way over to Arthur to give him a hand.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie closed her menu and put it down on the table as the waitress left. She smiled at Kayla sitting across from her. "So? How are the college classes going?"<p>

Kayla shrugged. "I don't know. All right, I guess. I always kind of imagined I'd get out of town, travel the world, but… here I am, going to community college." She frowned. "Not what I was expecting."

"Well, maybe you can travel after." Bonnie squirmed a little in her seat; it was always hard to discuss leaving the town with Kayla, since she always seemed so hopeful about doing just that. In fact, she was the only one who ever mentioned getting out of town, the others always changed the subject when it was brought up or they got a weird, glossy look in their eyes. Briefly, Bonnie had to wonder if maybe Kayla was like Naomi; maybe she knew she'd died and was aware that the town was something else. She wasn't sure though, and she didn't want to ask just in case she was wrong. "And college is just a stepping stone, right?"

"To what though?" Kayla shook her head. "I mean, I'm taking all these classes, but I don't even know what I'm trying to do. I thought for a while that maybe I wanted to write, like books or something. Or maybe become a journalist, start writing columns for the only newspaper around here," she scoffed.

"There's nothing wrong with either of those. You're a good writer, I've read your essays."

"Right, but… Don't I need experience? I mean, what am I going to write about here? Nothing ever happens."

"Not true. Leslie Proctor shoved Ina Winters into the mall fountain last week," Bonnie told her lightheartedly.

Rolling her eyes, Kayla stifled a smile and said, "Front page news. That'll really get me closer to a Pulitzer."

"Kay," she said gently, "everybody starts somewhere. Experience doesn't have to be global, it can happen exactly where you are. You learn from everything you're doing, every mistake you make, every person you meet."

"Right, but what if I meet the same people, over and over? What if I never get out of his this bubble, you know? I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm happy with some things. I have Lisa now, and I love working for you, and my parents and I have been getting along better than usual. But at the same time it's just… It's like something's missing, and I think if I could just get out of town for a while and break that cycle, maybe I could find out what it is."

Bonnie nodded. "I get it. Monotony gets to all of us. Just don't sell yourself short. Once you get into that way of thinking, it can spiral. Focus on the stuff you do have." She smiled then. "Speaking of Lisa, how is that going?"

Kayla lit up then, her worries of before melting away. "Well, in a word? _Amazing_. She's just… She's so smart and funny and ugh, when we kiss it's like… fireworks, you know?"

"I'm happy for you. You and Lisa are great together."

Kayla shrugged, but her cheeks were a little flushed. "I'm going to do something really embarrassing right now and admit that I didn't know I liked girls until I started getting a crush on you." She closed one eye and winced. "I know, it's weird, but… You were the first person who really talked to me like I was a person, you know? Not like I was some dumb kid. And it was… It was totally misplaced. I mean, yeah, I thought you were really pretty and smart and I felt something. But it was kind of one of those first crush things. I mean, now, I probably think of you more like a cool aunt. But in the beginning, yeah, I totally had a crush on you. And that opened my eyes a lot. Not just about how I liked girls, but other things too. Like school and how I felt about myself and just… everything. You really helped me get my head on straight. I know I'm not perfect now, but I'm figuring things out. So, thank you, I guess. Even if I totally just weirded you out."

"No, it's fine. I… I kind of suspected. We've all had crushes like that." She shrugged. "It's not embarrassing. I think I'm a little flattered."

Kayla laughed lightly. "Well, good. I mean, I'm over it. But I still don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything."

She shook her head. "I don't. Trust me, I've had a few crushes I'm glad never got out, and other that I really wish I could take back. But there were a few that were just kind of stepping stones. Sometimes you're crushing on the way someone thinks or the feeling isn't romantic at all and it's just this overwhelming sensation of gratitude that gets mixed up in your head. And sometimes it's real, sometimes you can see a whole future laid out with them, but it never happens. That's fine too. I like to think that you're looking for something in everyone you meet and every once in a while you meet someone who gives you that and all you needed was that moment. What they gave you doesn't really fade, even if the feelings do."

Nodding slowly, Kayla smiled. "I like that."

The waitress returned then with their appetizer, and soon the conversation turned to more lighthearted topics.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Why are we going to Bingo?" Damon wondered, his lip curled. "I know I'm old, but I'm not <em>that <em>old."

With a snort, Bonnie rolled her eyes back at him through the vanity mirror. "You are _too _that old. You're _older_. And we're going because Annette asked us to. All of tonight's proceeds are going to charity."

"Why can't I just donate money and stay in then?" he wondered, scrubbing his fingers over Mina's head as she laid on the bed beside him while he laid on his back.

"Because, we're not hermits." Standing from her seat, she smoothed out her skirt. "How do I look?"

"Gorgeous," he said, staring at the ceiling.

"_Damon_, you didn't even look."

"_Bonnie_… You always look gorgeous," he dismissed.

Crossing the room, she crawled onto the bed on her knees and laid down on her stomach beside him. "What's up? You're moody."

"I'm not moody. _You're _moody."

Bonnie sighed, raising an eyebrow, and turned over onto her side. She reached for him, laying her palm on his chest over his heart. "Are you not feeling okay? Was work long? Did you and Chris fight? Or Danny?"

"I have other friends," he defended.

"I know. But you spend most of your time with them."

She shifted up the bed a little more, so her face was level with his. He reached over, putting an arm around her and holding her to him loosely. His hand ran up and down her side absently.

"You wanna talk about it?" she wondered quietly.

He turned to look at her, his eyes searching her face. "No." He skimmed his fingers up to her shoulder and squeezed. "No, I'm just tired. I just wanted to stay in tonight, cuddle on the couch. But it's okay." He half-smiled at her. "We haven't been out in a while. And you have your good earrings on."

"My 'good' earrings?" she asked, reaching up to touch her ear, her brow furrowed.

"Uh-huh." He grinned then. "Those are the earrings you wear when we go somewhere fancy and you want to dress up."

"You got me these for Christmas three years ago," she reminded.

"I know." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Come on. I'll shower and get dressed. We're going to tear it up at Bingo night." He pushed up from the bed then and started for the door. "Pick out something to bring with us for a good luck charm. We'll make it a _thing_." He flashed his eyes back at her widely and smiled before walking out, making his way to the bathroom.

Bonnie smiled to herself for a moment, playing with her earring, before finally rolling off the bed. She paused to kiss Mina's head. "Too bad we can't bring you, huh. But, since you've been extra good, why don't we go get you a treat? Does that sound good?"

Mina perked up, hopping off the bed to follow her out to the kitchen, sitting pretty as Bonnie searched out the box of treats in the pantry. Of which she probably gave Mina entirely too many. As much as she complained Damon spoiled Mina, she knew she did it too. She was just smart enough not to do it anywhere Damon would see. While she made her do tricks —lay down, shake a paw, sit pretty, play dead— she lost track of time.

Bonnie had just balanced a treat on Mina's snout when the bathroom door opened and Damon stepped out, a cloud of steam following. He had a towel wrapped low around his hips and water dripped down his bare chest. Her throat went dry and, though she'd seen him shirtless more times than she could count, in that moment, having admitted to her feelings, she found herself more than a little distracted. She'd always been aware Damon was attractive. She'd been able to ignore that fact when faced with his unattractive behavior and personality. But now, knowing him as she did, seeing him standing there, half naked, it made her stomach tighten and her thighs shake.

There was a part of her, a very starved part, that wanted to just throw caution to the wind. To walk up to him, all confidence and certainty, and loosen his towel, let it fall to the floor. She wanted to follow one of those water droplets with her tongue, lick his warm, wet skin, let her hands wander down sculpted muscle and skin, memorize the ridges of his abdomen. She wanted to do a lot more than that. Let her fingers run through his wet hair as she pressed him back against the wall or down on the bed. She wanted to dig her nails into his chest as she rode him and—

Squeezing her legs closed, she bit her lip and just barely kept from fanning herself.

Mina, fed up with waiting, tossed her treat off her nose and ate it.

It wasn't until Damon walked down the hall and into their room that Bonnie got a hold of herself, and then had to open a window so her face wouldn't be too flushed by the time he came out.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>The Halloween party was loud, leading them to find a corner where they could talk a little more comfortably.<p>

Bonnie laughed, her head falling back. "_No_… Are you serious?"

Naomi nodded. "Oh, you bet I am. The principal called me, said I had to come down right away. I thought something had happened, that she was hurt. You should've seen her. I walked in and I've never seen that girl look so smug. Kid sitting next to her had a bleeding nose. You know what she says when I see her?"

"I can guess."

"She says, 'Momma, I did what you said. I knocked the spit right outta him.'" She laughed, shaking her head. "I've never seen a person turn purple so quick. I swear, I thought her principal was going to suspend _me_."

Bonnie bent forward, laughing thickly. When she was done, she said, "All right, that's bad, but she was defending herself."

"That little punk picked on her every day. He deserved that bloody nose."

"_Naomi_," Bonnie said, but her voice wasn't nearly as censuring as it could be. She couldn't help but agree. She remembered when Jasmine would come to the shop on lunch breaks, tears in her eyes over what her classmate was calling her. Naomi had tried the 'fight mean with nice' route, the 'just ignore him he'll go away' route, the 'tell an adult' route, but none of them worked. So, frustrated, she'd finally gone with a classic, and apparently Jasmine had decided to give it a try. "He probably did," she admitted.

"Don't get me wrong, I told her I was wrong and she shouldn't ever hit anybody again, but part of me was still proud. And he had it coming," Naomi said, shrugging.

Bonnie chuckled lightly. She was about to say something when she suddenly felt her arm raised and turned, half-smiling as she found Damon holding her hand. "_Cara mia_," he said, his mouth climbing up her sleeved arm. "I've been looking for you." He slid an arm around her waist and brought her back to his front as he kissed across her shoulder.

Leaning back against him, she grinned. "I've been here. Where were you? Are you having fun?"

"Danny's drowning himself bobbing for apples and Chris is drunkenly making out with Brandon in the gazebo. I've been left to my own devices. And you know what that leads to."

"Chaos, usually." She felt butterflies fill her as his hand spread over her stomach, fingers fanned out. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"_Danza con me, il mio tesoro,"_ he said against her ear.

Bonnie shivered. "Now in English."

He chuckled lowly, and kissed her behind her ear. He'd been doing that a lot lately, kissing her in places that weren't quite safe, but maybe just safe enough. It was giving her ideas, ideas that she both wanted to act on and was still too chicken to do anything about. Which was exactly what Naomi picked up on, since she was looking at her knowingly.

"Let's dance," he said, taking her hand once more, their fingers threading.

Bonnie looked back to Naomi, "I'll be right back."

"Mmhmm." Naomi didn't look convinced. "I know once he gets his hands on you, he's not letting you go. Any idea where Annette is?"

"With Carla in the kitchen," Damon called back, before twisting Bonnie around to face him as they walked out onto the back patio.

As Damon had mentioned, Bonnie noticed Brandon and Chris were making out in the gazebo, oblivious to anybody else around, not that it mattered since most of the people at the party were well passed drunk at this point.

She gave a little shiver as they paused in the middle of the patio. "It's a little cold out here."

The dress she was wearing covered most of her, aside from plunging neckline, but the fabric was a little thin, hugging her body, and the sleeves were gauzy with a spider web of black lace that might as well have left her arms bare, except for esthetic.

Damon tugged her in close, raising one pair of their hands in the air, their fingers folded together. "Dancing will warm you up then."

He started moving them side to side, turning them at random intervals. It was by no means a choreographed or set dance, but she was used to that. Damon was spontaneous; that was how he did just about everything. Which, if she thought about it, was a little funny, considering how very domestic their life was. Her hand rested on his shoulder while his was on her hip, occasionally sliding up to rub over her back and down her side. He was wearing a pinstriped suit, with a cigar sticking out of the front pocket, and he'd even grown in a little mustache just for the sake of his costume. She'd be glad when he shaved it off. Still, of all of their Halloween outfits, this was her favorite.

Damon ducked his head down so they were temple to temple and brought her hand in toward his chest, his thumb playing with her fingers. He stroked her back lightly, his lips brushing her ear as he hummed along with the tune of the song. Bonnie closed her eyes, following his footsteps, resting against him. He was so warm and solid and the cologne he was wearing was intoxicating, rich and spicy. "You smell good," she murmured.

He chuckled lowly, the noise rumbling from his chest, and she shivered. "You bought me this cologne."

"I know. I have great taste." She tipped her head back, her hand sliding up to the nape of his neck, squeezing lightly. "Did you have fun tonight?"

"I'm having fun now," he answered, staring down at her.

"Me too."

His mouth tipped at the corner. "You just like me kissing your arm."

She laughed, her head falling back. "It's an upside to this costume."

With a grin, he ducked his head down, brushing her hair out of the way. He pressed a kiss to the space just before the crook of her neck, still atop the fabric of her dress. "_La mia dolce_…" Kiss. "_gentile_…" Kiss. "_bella_…" Kiss. "Bonnie." He raised his head, his eyes meeting hers, and then he kissed the very corner of her mouth and said, "_Tu sei la parte migliore di me_."

She stared up at him, swallowing tightly. "What'd you say?"

"The truth." He kissed her forehead and brought her back into their dance. "One more dance, and then we go make sure Danny didn't actually drown in the apple bucket."

Bonnie laughed. "Deal."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie lost her breath when she saw Carla in her wedding dress for the first time. She was beautiful and she was going to make a gorgeous bride.<p>

Bonnie blamed her emotional state a little on the champagne they'd been drinking while she and the other bridesmaids tried on their dresses. But, in all honesty, she had a moment when she looked up at Carla, standing there in white, beaming and looking so excited, and she thought of Caroline and Elena. She thought of all the time they'd spent when they were younger, dreaming up what their weddings and husbands and dresses might look like. She remembered the elaborate wedding plans they made, about who would be maid of honor, which always resulted in a fight, and which songs they wanted to play for their first dance, which changed depending on which boy band had a hit out at the time. She thought of all those conversations and she wanted to break down. She offered a smile to anyone watching and she hugged Carla when she got emotional about her big day, but she had to excuse herself to the bathroom and cry into a roll of toilet paper.

She wouldn't be there. She wouldn't help Caroline pick her dress or help Elena with her vows or talk either of them through a last minute break down before they walked down the aisle. She wouldn't be there. And that was awful. That was heart-wrenching. Sure, vampires had an eternity, but she knew them, she knew they would meet the love of their lives and they would still want the wedding. And they would get it, she just wouldn't be a part of it.

After a few minutes, she knew she had to pull herself together, this was the wrong time for a personal crisis. So she wiped her eyes and she stepped back out, putting on a brave face and making it through the rest of the hoopla. Carla really did make a lovely bride and her wedding to Danny was going to be amazing. Still, after Bonnie's dress was picked out and she was measured and poked, Bonnie finally made it home, crawled into bed, and called Mina in to cuddle her. She was still sad, and it hurt, but it was a little cleansing too. At least they would be happy; she could comfort herself with that.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"That boy has a crush on you," Naomi said as Bonnie waved at Caleb on his way out of the store.<p>

"No he doesn't," she denied, frowning. "He's just being friendly."

"Bonnie, honey, I don't know what you're used to back home, before all this, but that boy _likes_ you. No guy willingly spends ten minutes hanging out in the candle aisle, asking which one's your favorite for fun. He probably has a migraine right now from all that scents he just inhaled, but he thinks it's okay because he made progress, he made you smile…" She shook her head. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. If you like him too, then fine. But you got yourself a man at home that you _know _you have feelings for. So you best get that figured out first."

Bonnie's shoulders slumped. "It's not that easy."

"Do you love him?"

"I… Of course I love him," she sighed.

"Are you _in love _with him?"

Bonnie stared down at her hands. "I… It's complicated. Damon, he… He was in love with my best friend. I don't mean just 'in love,' I mean _insanely_, passionately, obsessively in love with her. It was unhealthy, but it was everything to him."

"Where is your friend?"

"She… She's alive, back home." She shrugged. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't know your friend. But I know you and I know Damon. You said yourself that he's done some growing up. He's not the same as he was. He's grown up, he's moved on. He's made it clear he thinks you're here permanently, so what makes you think he's still holding on to her?"

"I… I don't know. It's just… It's always been her for him."

"Well, then it's simple."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow.

"Ask him." She shrugged. "Ask him if he's still in love with her. It doesn't have to be about you or how you feel. You don't even have to bring it up. But ask anyway. Friends do that, don't they?"

Bonnie blew out a heavy breath. "Yeah, I guess."

Naomi smiled, reaching over to rub her shoulder. "Look, honey, I'm not telling you how to live your life. You want to be with Damon or Caleb or nobody, that's up to you. But don't stress yourself out over things that are fixable."

"What if he does love her? What if… What if he _always _loves her?" Her eyes stung then as she turned to look at her. "I can't… I can't just be a stand in, not to anyone. I _won't_."

"Good." Naomi reached out and tipped Bonnie's chin up. "You never should be. If his heart is somewhere else, then you let it go. Let him go. Be his friend if you want to. But put yourself first, look out for _you_."

She nodded, reaching up to press her fingers under her eyes, staying her tears. "Yeah."

"Don't make assumptions though, huh? Don't prepare for the worst." Naomi bumped Bonnie's shoulder with her own. "One step at a time, baby girl."

"You're right, I know." Putting an arm around her, she hugged Naomi to her side. "Thanks."

"Any time."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"She's not supposed to be off leash," Bonnie reminded him as they walked down the middle of the street.<p>

Damon shrugged, watching as Mina ran around, sniffing fire hydrants and trees and random parts of the gutter. "She doesn't get too far from us, and there's no cars out this late," he reminded.

"So far." She watched Mina lope around with no specific direction and then cast her eyes up to the full moon. It was chilly out; she could see her breath with each exhale. Despite the cold, the street looked pretty enough to put up with it; Christmas lights lined trees and store windows.

She had her favorite red mitts on, but she could still feel the heat of Damon's hand soaking through the fabric to her skin. Whistling under his breath, he swung their hands back and forth. He'd traded out his leather jacket for his winter coat, still black but a lot more insulated. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and she found herself wondering when the first snow would come. The news warned it could be any day now.

"You're quiet tonight," he noticed.

She shrugged. "Distracted, I guess." She'd been thinking of what Naomi said all week. She needed to say something, and it should be simple. It was just a question, and they'd talked about Elena plenty of times before. She wasn't sure how to bring it up though, worried he might pick up on her reasons and she would end up being uncomfortable or embarrassed or, worse, heartbroken.

"Danny's really on this wedding stuff," he told her. "I had another fitting today because he said he wanted me to change my suit."

Bonnie's nose wrinkled. "Why?"

"He said he wanted blue instead of black, but I'm pretty sure he's just worried I'll look better than him."

She laughed. "Damon…"

He grinned. "It's a legitimate concern, Bon-Bon. Don't worry, I'll try my hardest to blend in."

Shaking her head at him, she leaned against his side. "Are you excited to be the best man?"

"I'm excited I beat Chris out for the job."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I just mean, you can't be Stefan's, who was probably your only shoe-in chance to be a best man, so…"

He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. "Was Stefan engaged before we left and he just forgot to mention it?"

"No."

"Good. I didn't think he and Blondie got that far yet."

"Caroline?" she asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah." He noticed her expression and smirked. "What, you don't think those two are headed for a June wedding?"

"I… I never really thought about it. I mean, there was Matt then Tyler then that weird thing with _Klaus_."

"Yeah, all stand-ins. Pretty sure she had it bad for Stefan's brooding forehead from the beginning." He shrugged. "Guess I would've been standing up at that wedding too… Huh."

She eyed him curiously. "And he would've stood at yours. Stopped you from sneaking a flask into your pocket for the ceremony."

"He would've _tried_."

Smiling faintly, she gathered up her courage and wondered, "Do you ever think about it? Lost chances… Elena in a white dress."

His brows hiked as he turned to her, eyes a little wide. "Wedding fever starting to get to you, Bon-Bon?" He used his teeth to pull his glove off his free hand and pressed his knuckles to her forehead playfully.

She swatted him away. "No. I just… I saw Carla in her dress and—"

"Imagined our wedding? I'm touched. When do you want to book the chapel?" He wiggled his eyebrows down at her.

Snorting, she smiled, turning her head away. "No, I thought about Caroline and Elena and how, when we were kids, we used to think about that stuff. Plan it all out in our heads."

"Don't most girls?"

"Sure, I don't know. Everybody's different. But we did. And it made me think… I guess I just wondered, if you ever thought about it. About Elena…"

He was quiet for a long moment, letting out a long, heavy breath. "Sure, I think about her."

Her heart clenched in her chest.

"Elena was…" He shook his head. "One of the great loves of my life, you know?"

She glanced at him. "Yeah," she said softly.

"After Katherine, she was a breath of fresh air. Everything I thought I really wanted, wrapped up in a face I'd been in love with for a hundred and forty-five years. It was like fate." He hummed, kicking at a rock absently. "We weren't perfect. Pretty sure no relationship really is. We've all got our ups and downs and things to work out. But… I wasn't the type of guy who liked to look at those things. Easier just to ignore 'em. And, some of the time, she let me…

"I told her once that the kind of love she wanted was _consuming_ and, at the time, I thought that was a good thing. The way I loved, the way it made sense to me, was to want someone so desperately that you don't know how to _breathe _without them." He licked his lips, staring ahead. "That's what Katherine was, what Elena was… That made sense to me. And the parts of us that didn't fit or didn't work, I just pretended they didn't matter, because as long as I had her attention, her love, everything made a weird kind of sense."

She stared up at his profile. "What about now?" she wondered.

He turned to look at her, staring at her searchingly. "Now… with a little perspective and some time away from it, I think love is _nothing_ like I thought it was." He let out a little scoff. "Course it takes me a century and a half to figure it out. Little slow on the uptake, huh?"

"Little bit, yeah." She half-smiled. "So, what's love then?"

He pauses for a moment, thinking, and then tells her, "Compromise. Not ignoring the differences or expecting everything to go one way, but… figuring out a way that fits both people. And patient… even when it's the last thing I want to be, ever. It's loud, and quiet, and something in between. Because I'm pretty sure it's made up of all these little moments, when you're angry with each other, or in the morning, when you're half asleep, or you're not talking, you're just _together _for the sake of being around each other. It… It's still passionate, because it needs to be. _I _need it to be. I need to feel wanted and to want someone just as much. I need to miss them even when I'm holding their hand. And I need to know that even on my worst day, seeing them will make it worth it. But it's also individual. It's respectful. I'm going to love differently than they love, because we're different people, even if we are together. So it comes back to compromise, knowing that there are some things that you can ask for more of and others that you need to let go of."

Her heart lodged itself in her throat and she found herself at a loss for words.

"And it's friendship. None of that 'you can either be friends or in love' bullshit. You can be best friends. You _should_ be best friends."

"Sounds like…" She cleared her throat when her voice came out croaky. "Sounds like you really thought about this."

"Yeah, well, I've had some time to." He shrugged, squeezing her hand in his. "You know I figured some things out too…"

"Oh?"

"Elena… The kind of love I had for her, that she had for me, it's not… It isn't what I think of love anymore. And I'm not sure it would work with her if we tried it again."

"No?"

"No." He shook his head. "She _does _want a love that consumes her. And that's fine, if it works for her. But I don't. I don't want to be consumed anymore. You know why? Because it's _fleeting_. It eats at you, burns you up, until you're gone. Until _it's _gone. No, the kind of love I want is going to last. It's going to be there the rest of my life. Steady and reliable. Notpredictable, because that's boring. But the kind of love I can trust. That won't fall for my brother instead or constantly question whether I'm good enough. Just… It's a home. It should be like coming home. No matter where you are, what's going on, any of that, you see them, you've got them right there in your arms, and that's it. That's all you need. You're home."

She breathed out shakily, nodding. "Sounds…"

"Dramatic? I have a flair for that."

She grinned. "You do, but no. It sounds nice."

"Yeah?" he asked, looking over at her, mouth curved up lightly.

"Yeah," she said softly.

They stared at each other a long moment, before the nearby noise of a car caught their attention. Damon turned and called Mina over while they moved toward the sidewalk.

"Well, how about this hopeless romantic takes you home? Makes you some of Sheila's patented hot chocolate?" he suggested.

Nodding, Bonnie said, "I'd like that."

"Good." He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Half-way home, snow started to fall, and it made an already memorable night all the more beautiful.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Bonnie was giggling when he stepped into the store, her face lit up with a smile, and, for a moment, that was all Damon saw. Her happiness, making her all the more beautiful.<p>

And then he saw who was making her laugh.

He'd been expecting Naomi, Annette, The Kid, even Brandon. Instead, it was some guy he'd never seen before, someone who apparently really liked candles, since he'd bought more than enough of them, and who was lingering, leaning on the counter, chuckling along with Bonnie.

It wasn't until he reached across and brushed a stray hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear, that Damon felt something swoop and land in his stomach, heavy with impending disappointment.

For a second, he considered turning around, walking out the door and taking a long walk. Giving himself a chance to wrap his head around it. Because as much as he recognized Bonnie was a beautiful woman, that she was smart and kind and anybody would be lucky to have her in his life, he never really considered the idea that he might have competition. Maybe it was the fact that for nearly six years now, everybody around them thought they were together. Maybe it was his own arrogance at thinking nobody would try their hand at turning her head when he was around. Or maybe it was just blind hope that things would go smoothly this time around.

Who was he kidding?

When had any of his relationships ever been that easy? When had he ever fallen for someone that wasn't already interested in someone else, or wasn't just with him in the meantime, until someone better came along? Never. It was as simple as that. Anybody he'd ever really cared about, anybody he'd really wanted to be with… He was either the second choice, or the stand-in. He'd tried to be more, he'd done everything in his power to be their number one, to prove that he was the one they really wanted, the one they _should_ want. He'd forced his way into Elena's heart, _made _her look at him, see him, done everything he could to outshine his brother, to point out Stefan's flaws so his own wouldn't look so big. And he'd won. For a while. He got the girl. That triumph seemed hollow now. With Elena completely out of reach and probably better off for it.

Bonnie was different.

Bonnie had been different from the very beginning. She was the one who refused to be swayed by a smile, to be placated with a wink. She didn't fall for his charms so much as scoff at them. She didn't ignore his flaws or his mistakes or the death toll he racked up. She was aware and she made sure he knew that she wouldn't stand for it. Even now, when he was a hell of a lot better than he'd been, she was still different. She never swooned for him, never fell for his tricks, instead, she always called him out, demanded honesty and respect, and, even if it wasn't her intention, he was a better person for it.

He thought about leaving, walking away with the leaden feeling of defeat already settling inside him, but then she looked up, spotted him, and her mouth spread wide in a smile. "Hey, you're early," she said, perking up at the counter.

So he pasted on a smile and made his way over. "Job finished up quicker than we thought," he answered, glancing at the man in front of her. "You really went for the half-off deal, huh?" he said, raising a brow at all the candles.

"Oh. Uh, yeah, well, can't ignore a good deal when you see it."

Bonnie grinned. "See, I told you it was a good idea." She looked smug, looking up at Damon proudly.

Mina came hurrying from around the corner then and bee-lined it for him. Damon was thankful for the distraction and knelt down to meet her, rubbing his hands over her head and rubbing his nose against hers. "There's my girl," he cooed, scratching behind her ears.

"She was good today," Bonnie informed him. "I took her for a walk to the town center, threw the ball around, shared an ice cream cone with her…"

"She got spoiled." He kissed her snout before he stood, absently reaching for Bonnie, his hand sliding up her back and settling at the nape of her neck, squeezing gently.

Bonnie looked up at him and then turned forward once more. "Oh, sorry. Damon, this is Caleb. He helped me with Mina when she wouldn't cross the road."

"And now he's buying his weight in candles…" He smirked emptily. "Good samaritan type, huh?"

Caleb smiled awkwardly. "Something like that."

Bonnie looked between them, her brows furrowed. "Anyway…" She tore the receipt off the machine and held it out to Caleb. "It was good seeing you. And let me know how you like the sage candle. It's new and I'm not quite sure the recipe is where I want it to be. Naomi thinks we should make it sage and lemon."

"I'll get back to you," he agreed, raising the bag in his hand to wave at her. "Nice meeting you Damon."

"Yeah," he answered, nodding his chin. He watched as Caleb left, turning back as he stepped through the day to see Bonnie one last time. A muscle ticked in Damon's jaw and he gritted his teeth.

"Hey," she said softly.

Looking down at her, he half-smiled. "Hey," he returned. "You just about ready to get out of here?"

"Yeah. Just let me grab my books. You wanna close up the front?"

"Sure."

"Don't forget to—"

"Turn the open sign," he finished knowingly, shaking his head as he walked toward the door. "Pretty sure having the lights off is a clear sign you're closed, Bon-Bon."

"Yeah, yeah, just do it," she said, making her way to her back office.

Mina followed after her, nipping at her heels, no doubt hoping Bonnie might give her one of the treats she kept in the back. Bonnie thought she was being sly, buying the treats herself, but Damon knew she spoiled Mina on them. She tried to play aloof, saying Mina was all Damon's, but she was just as in love with their dog as he was.

When she made her way back out, books under one arm and Mina on her leash beside her, he left the front of her shop, the lights off, the door locked, and the sign turned to closed. He walked toward her, sliding an arm around her waist as she turned to face the back exit, and he wondered if she would do the same thing with someone else one day. If Caleb would walk her out of her shop, or some other guy would meet her at the end of her day, and they would walk off together to their home. For the first time, that seemed a very real possibility, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, swallowing tightly as she leaned into his side, arm around his waist, and started telling him about her day.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"What's up with you?"<p>

"Hm?" Damon looked up from his beer to find Danny and Chris staring at him, frowning. "Sorry, what?"

"Danny's been throwing out ideas for his bachelor party and you've spent most of it staring into your beer. He suggested we crash Carla's bachelorette party as strippers and you didn't even blink."

"Maybe I need the money. Of the three of us, I'm pretty sure I'd be the best stripper."

"Who's second?" Danny wondered.

"Chris."

"What? Why?"

"He has rhythm."

"I have rhythm!" he defended.

Chris shrugged. "I'm pretty sure neither of you can dance."

"We're stripping, it's more about the vibe you're giving out," Damon said, shaking his head. "Danny would trip over his pants trying to get them off. He's got the highest record for accidents on the job."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Small accidents, nothing serious."

"They know him by name at the hospital," Damon said, shaking his head.

Chris chuckled, taking a drag from his beer.

"Fine. But just for the record, Carla has a stripper pole, and she likes it just fine when I take it for a spin," Danny told them, pointing seriously.

Damon laughed into his beer.

Chris turned to him. "Back to the original topic… What's got you so distracted? You've been weird lately."

"I'm always weird. It's part of my charm."

"Weirder than normal," Danny snorted. "Something going on? Something serious?" He looked worried then, his mouth turned down.

Damon wasn't sure how to reply to that; he reached back, running a hand down his hair and over his neck. Truth was, he'd spent the last few days trying to decide if it was better to bow out early or fight. Fighting for a woman hadn't done him many favors and, to be honest, he was tired of having to. He was tired of having to prove his worth and, considering how unsure he was that she would, or could, feel the same way about him, he was starting to think it was better to just preserve their friendship and not complicate things. But then he would wake up in the morning and he would turn over to find her there, muttering in her sleep, and the idea that one day he might not, that one day he wouldn't share her bed, or cuddle with her on Sundays, or read poetry to her in front of the fire, or make her dinner, or rub her tiny little feet, that one day she might not reach for his hand or lean into the kiss he pressed to her cheek, that she wouldn't press her ear to his heart as they danced… it was sounding more and more like the worst thing that could happen to him.

"You ever been with someone and wonder if they could do better?"

"Are you kidding? Sometimes I wake up next to Carla and I pinch myself." Danny shook his head. "Don't tell her that though, she might leave my ass for someone better."

Chris tipped his head, his brow furrowed as he stared at Damon thoughtfully. "You and Bonnie having problems?"

"No. We're… We're good. She just… There's a guy. Caleb or something. He's been hanging around the shop, flirting with her."

"Plenty of people flirt with Bonnie," Danny said.

True. She did have a habit of attracting attention, whether she noticed it or not.

"This was different. I don't know." He sighed, shaking his head. "It's just got me thinking."

"Well, your first mistake is looking at it like one of you is worse or better," Chris told him, leaning back in the booth.

Damon looked over at him, frowning. "What do you mean?" He knew for a fact Bonnie was better than him, in just about every way. She was good, compassionate, smart, loving; he could go on all day.

"People aren't just one thing. We're never all good or all bad, we're complicated. And when it comes to relationships, if you start thinking of someone as better than you, then you're putting them on a pedestal, and when they screw up, which they will, it's inevitable, it makes it harder to accept. Harder to make sense of." He shook his head. "Listen, Bonnie's great. She fits with you, just like you fit with her. Maybe she's better at some things, but she's worse at things too. When you're with someone, you got to see them as a whole person. And then you've got to see yourself the same way. You're not perfect, but you're not all bad either. The things you see in Bonnie that you love, that you don't think you have, the things you think make her a better person, they're just parts of her. Parts you should love, but not envy.

"You want a healthy relationship, work on yourself. Figure yourself out. Figure out what you don't like about _you_ and then decide what you want to do about it. But don't put it on someone else, don't look at them and think they're too good. They're just them. If you think you're not good enough, you gotta find out why. Because you shouldn't be any better or worse. Bonnie fell in love with you, flaws and all. She's stuck with you this long, so obviously she's seeing something you aren't."

Damon stared at him a long moment, and then down at his beer, letting his words settle inside him. But eventually, when they felt a little too heavy, he had to wonder, "What if someone else can make her happier?"

Chris shrugged. "What if they can't?"

He hummed, nodding to himself, and then half-smiled. Shaking his head, he said, "All right, enough of that." Tipping his beer back, Damon finished it off. "I'm going to get another round and when I get back, we're going to plan this bachelor party."

Half-grinning, Danny nodded. "Cheers to that."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>"Are you okay?" Bonnie asked. She was neck deep in a bathtub full of bubbles, a towel rolled up and tucked behind her neck. A glass of wine was in reach and she was watching as Damon, who had spent the last while doing laundry, started putting towels away on the shelves against the wall. "You've been distracted lately."<p>

"Fine," he told her, emptying out the last of the laundry. He looked back at her, offering a weird smile, and then he crossed the room, plucking up a book on the table she'd brought near the tub and bent down so they were eye-level. "How's your bath going, wrinkles?"

She held up her hand for him to see her pruned fingers. Damon leaned over and kissed the pads of each of her wrinkly fingers. Smiling, she turned her hand, pressing her palm to his cheek, her thumb stroking lightly. "You know you can talk to me, right?" She stared at him searchingly. "About anything."

He nodded. "Yeah."

She bit her lip. "Because if something's going on and you don't think I'll understand… I still want to try."

"Mmhmm."

"So there's nothing you want to talk about...?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Maybe one thing."

She perked up a little. "Okay."

"Your beard."

"My… _what?_"

"I didn't want to say anything but…" He gathered up bubbles and smeared them over her cheeks and chin. "It's getting a little out of control."

Scoffing at him, Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous." She scooped up bubbles of her own and rubbed them down his face. He laughed, blowing a few off his mouth before he reached for more.

She slapped at his hands, giggling, as their wrestling caused water to slosh around. "Damon! Don't get my hair wet!"

He merely grinned, flicking water at her face with his fingers.

Glaring at him playfully, she splashed him, soaking the front of his shirt.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Think about this… Do you really want to declare war right now?"

Bonnie paused, thinking about it. She was naked, and confined to the bathtub. Chewing her lip, she tipped her chin down, and shook her head.

"That's what I thought." He plucked her glass of wine up and handed it to her before turning, pressing his back to the tub as he thumbed through her book to where she'd left off.

Bonnie stared at his profile, sinking a little deeper into the tub, and smiled, sipping at her wine as he began to read to her. She barely heard what he was saying, and knew she would have to re-read a good chunk of her book, but that didn't matter. She watched his face, a few bubbles still stuck to his hair, his eyes soft, his shirt clinging to his chest, and a faint smile pulling at his mouth.

"Damon?"

He paused, looking over at her.

She reached for him, stroking her fingers through his hair delicately. "Whenever you're ready to talk… I'll listen."

He caught her hand and brought it down, pressing his lips to her knuckles. He left it there, the back pressed to his cheek, and said, "I know."

The only words from him after that were from her book, but that was okay, because he knew, and eventually, when he was ready, he would share whatever was going on in his head. He always did.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>Damon came to the conclusion he either needed to put up or shut up. The 'slow burn, ease her into it' plan wasn't working. Maybe it was because he was impatient or maybe it was knowing that Caleb was still around, that every other Thursday he was showing up at the store, making Bonnie laugh, carving out a little place in her heart, which left Damon feeling like he was slowly getting closer and closer to losing her. He tried to take what Chris said to heart, but the flaw in that thinking was that Bonnie wasn't in love with him, they'd been faking their relationship the whole time, so relying on the idea that she'd already chosen him didn't get him far. But they did have a foundation for a relationship, a lot more than Caleb had, and that was encouraging. If he could find a way to let her know how he felt without scaring her off.<p>

It was Bonnie's turn to make dinner, and Damon had already chickened out on doing something, like taking her into his arms and just kissing her, four different times. There were opportunities to say something, to be spontaneous, to work a confession into the conversation, but every time he tried, his tongue tied itself up into a knot and he would let it pass him by. She just looked so happy, so content, and he didn't want that to go away. He didn't want her expression to change into pity or confusion or awkward uncertainty. He didn't want her to give him the 'I only think of you as a friend' speech as gently as she could, so not to hurt his feelings. In a weird way, that felt inevitable. Maybe it was because he'd spent a good portion of his life being rejected by the people he wanted to love him. His dad, Katherine, Stefan, Elena. He'd disappointed them, fallen short of their expectations, never quite lived up to what they wanted, time and time again. His past could only reinforce how much of a screw up he was, how much of a failure he could be when it came to relationships. Bonnie would be smart not to get involved with him.

But he'd changed. Hadn't he? She'd seen that. She knew he was better, that he wasn't as selfish, that he could, and would, put her first.

"…I've never tried it before. So let's hope it turns out okay. Caleb said it was pretty foolproof, but we both know I can burn just about anything if I try hard enough."

Damon went still. "Caleb?" he asked, his voice carefully void of emotion.

"Yeah. When he stopped by last week, we were talking about recipes, and I was telling him that you make dinner most of the time, but every once in a while I get to break out one of Grams' old recipes. That got him talking about his mom and how she made the best hot chocolate he'd ever had. Which, of course, I said was only because he'd never had Grams' hot chocolate. Anyway, I told him I was making dinner this week and he gave me a few recipes to try out. This is one of them." She wiped her hands on a dish towel before tossing it back to the island.

Damon stared downward, his brow furrowed, as he licked his lips. "Caleb's around a lot, huh," he said.

Bonnie shrugged. "I guess. He really likes half-off Thursdays."

"Yeah, he's really… milking that." He pursed his lips.

Bonnie glanced at him, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, short and succinct.

Tipping her head, she stared at him. "No, something's wrong. I think I've known you long enough that I can tell when something's bothering you."

He shook his head, dragging his hands over his face. "I'm fine. Just tired."

Bonnie didn't look convinced, so he reached for her, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He stared at her hand a long moment, small and soft, fitting comfortably in his. And then he started thinking, about how well they fit together, about how right it felt to reach for her and hold her, about how much he didn't want to lose that.

"I'm not fine."

She blinked. "Okay. Well, do you want to talk about it?"

He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand down his mouth. Finally, stiffly, he said, "I think I should move out."

Bonnie paused, going completely still. "What?" she asked quietly.

"I… I've been thinking about this a lot. And I think maybe it's time that we… we try this thing separately." He cleared his throat when it started to burn. "We can figure out a schedule with Mina. I don't want to keep her from you. And it'll take some time, separating everything, but—"

"Damon."

"—I haven't really looked for a place yet. I know the joint bank account is going to cause some issues, but we'll figure that out too—"

"Look at me."

"—and the house, you should keep it. If you have problems with the mortgage, I can help—"

"Damon Salvatore, look me in the face right now!" she demanded, her voice raised.

He swallowed tightly, but raised his eyes to meet hers, a pang striking his heart as he saw hers were shining with tears.

"Are you serious?" she asked, staring at him searchingly.

He turned his eyes just a little to the left. "We talked about it before. About eventually getting different places."

"That was a long time. That… That was when we weren't sure how we felt about living together or where we were. I thought… I thought we were happy."

Her voice cracked, and he winced. "We are."

"Then _why?_"

"Bonnie, please," he sighed, shaking his head. "Don't make this harder than it is."

"Harder for _who? _You're the one leaving!" she exclaimed.

"I thought you'd be happy," he muttered.

"_Excuse_ me?" She crossed her arms over her chest, frowning at him. "Would you like to explain _why?_"

Crossing his arms in front of him on the island counter, he shrugged, affecting nonchalance. "Things are permanent here. In the beginning, we weren't sure if we were going back. Now we know we aren't. There's no more tiptoeing around it. This is…. the rest our lives."

"And what?" She shook her head. "You don't want to spend it together?"

His throat burned with emotion and he dropped his eyes to the counter. "I want you to be happy."

"And you leaving is supposed to accomplish that _how?_" She threw her hands up, her mouth wobbling. "I don't understand. Explain it to me. Because one minute we're happy, there's nothing wrong, I… We have a home, and a dog, and a routine. Is… Is it _boring? _Is that it? I—I know you're used to chaos and adventure and you said that was what you want. But I thought you were settling down here. I thought you _liked _it." She was getting worked up and her voice was getting thicker. "I don't get it."

He pushed up from the stool and circled around the counter to her. Squeezing her shoulders softly, he bent, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He tried to pull her in for a bug, but she pressed her hands to his chest to keep him back, even as her hands gripped his shirt just as much to keep him there and close.

He lingered longer than he should have, but the possibility that this was the last time she would let him do it, let him near her, made him want to stay as long as possible. "I'm going to stay at Danny's for a few days. I can pick up a few things later."

Just as he released her, she put her arm around his waist. "No."

"Bonnie—"

"You don't get to drop a bomb like that and walk away. _Talk _to me." She stared up at him, her face twisted up emotionally. "What is going on in that _thick_ head, huh?"

He stared down at her, and his hands raised to frame her face, thumbs atop the arch of her cheeks. "You make it sound easy."

"Maybe because it is."

He shook his head. "No. See, I've been trying to figure out what I'm going to say for… weeks now. This whole time I've felt like I was on some kind of time limit. That suddenly the buzzer was going to ring —_zzzt_— and I'd realize I was too late. I waited too long. Which is crazy, because I think we both know that I'm impatient, I jump the gun, I— I run in, head first, with a half-assed plan, that is _probably_ going to end a lot more bloody that it needs to. But this time… This time, I thought I'd play it safe. I thought… if I just gave you time, and I snuck in under your radar, you'd never see it coming and you wouldn't be able to stop it, and before you know it, you'd be in love with me too."

He swallowed tightly, grinding his teeth, and rubbed his thumbs back and forth — God, her skin was so soft.

"And for a while there, I thought it'd be easy. We spend all this time together, all I needed to do was show you that friendship wasn't the limit for us. But then Caleb was there, and he was making you laugh, and I started asking myself what I was doing. I started thinking about what it'd be like to let you go, if that was smarter, less selfish, better for you…" He shook his head, smirking bitterly. "Because let's face it, I'm not the kind of guy you wanna settle down with. I've done a good job so far, but if we weren't sent here and you weren't hard up for someone to trust, you'd never give me a second glance. I can't even blame you for that, you'd be _smart _not to. And you've always been smart. You're the level headed one, the logical one, my brilliant little witch..." He reached over and tapped the tip of her nose affectionately.

A few seconds passed before he shook his head and told her, "Look, I don't know if Caleb even matters. What I know is I'm old, _too _old, and I've spent most of my life trying to find someone to spend it with. I've done stupid, reckless, pointless things for women that never gave a shit about me and I've hurt people who did. I've hurt _you_ too many times, and that… It's still with me. I've got more regrets than I can begin to count, and what I've done to you, how I hurt you over the years, those are near the top. How you put up with me, how you even managed to become my friend, I have no idea. Because I've done a really good job of proving why I don't deserve either. But you did. You _did_. And Bonnie, you're… the most important person in my life. You're my best friend. I'm not just saying that because Ric's not here, or Stefan, or Enzo. It's because it's true. Even at my worst, you still tried to pull my ass out of the fire, you backed me up even when you hated me, you called me out and forced me to get my shit together even when I did nothing but cause you stress and pain…

"And Chris, he tells me that I shouldn't compare us, that I shouldn't look at it like you're better than me, but you _are_. You're a hundred times better than I ever was, or ever _could_ be. Which is why, possibly for the first time in my very long, very selfish, very self-indulged life, I'm going to do the right thing, and I'm going to walk away. And maybe in a few months, when you're done burning every picture of me and calling me every name in the book and possibly trying to get your magic back _just_ to give me an aneurysm, which, by the way, I wouldn't survive, so try to restrain yourself… Maybe after that, you might forgive me for being a jackass and… let me be your friend again."

A tear trickled down her cheek, and he swiped it away slowly. His hands were shaking and his throat was tight and this selfless thing was a hell of a lot harder than he thought it would be. But he kissed the top of her head one last time and he stepped around her, starting for the door. He had his shoes on and his jacket half-zipped when her voice reached him.

Her back was still to him, one of her hands on the edge of the counter for balance, as she croaked out, "I'm not better than you."

He paused, staring at her. "Bonnie—" he said, in that 'don't be stupid' voice of his.

She turned on her heel to face him. "I'm _not_. I'm not better than you just like you're not better or worse than me. We just _are_. I have flaws, I make mistakes, there was a reason you called me Judgy. I'm not saying that's even a bad thing, because sometimes you need to be judgemental, you need to say what others won't, and you need to notice when people are doing things they shouldn't be. But I'm also self-sacrificing and I tend to put myself last on my priorities list. I'm not perfect, Damon. And neither are you. You cheat at board games, you're sarcastic and dismissive, you hate getting close to people because you think they'll hurt you, you take everything personally, you're incredibly sensitive but you try really hard not to be, and you have this very annoying habit of making choices for people instead of talking to them and working together for a solution. Because if you'd just talked to me, if you'd asked me what I wanted, if you'd pulled your head out of your 'I know what's best' bubble, you might've realized that I have feelings for you. Very deep, very scary feelings that I had no idea you reciprocated. Feelings that I was worried would ruin our friendship. Feelings I felt guilty about because, until recently, I thought you were still in love with Elena.

"And now, because some guy that I _barely _know happens to flirt with me and share recipe ideas and is a very generous customer, you think you need to swoop in with your protector act and make decisions about my life and what I want. Well, screw you!" She tossed her hands up. "You don't get to decide what's best for me or what's going to make me happy. _I _decide that. So if I want to fall in love with you, if I want to spend my life with you, if I want to share my home and my bed and my heart with you, then I'm going to. If that's not what you want, if you're not ready for that, _say _that. But don't walk away and tell me it's for my own good. I'm a grown woman. I may not be a hundred and eighty years old, but I know what I want. And I want _you_."

He stared at her, searching her face. She was so angry she was flushed, and her eyes were still bright with tears, but she raised her chin, stubborn and sure of herself, and his mouth tipped up at the corner.

"You know what I'm like…" He shook his head. "When I fall in love, I don't let go."

"Maybe I don't want you to." She put her hands to her hips. "Maybe I don't want to let you go either."

"Be sure," he told her, taking a step toward her. "Because I'm risking everything here. Our life, your friendship, _you_…"

She met his step with one of her own. "I'm sure."

"You know I'm impulsive," he warned.

"Very."

"And more than a little possessive."

"We'll work on that."

"I'm reckless."

"You're getting better.

"I don't share."

"I don't want you to."

"I'm gonna fall in love with you quickly, and I won't apologize for it."

"So will I."

His gaze fell to her lips. "Last chance."

"No take-backs," she murmured.

And then he was there, his lips slanting over hers, his arm around her waist, pulling her up, their chests pressed together tightly. She reached for him, her fingers balling up the shoulders of his jacket and then reaching up, skimming over his neck and burying in his hair. Her lips parted on a panted breath and his tongue swept inside, stroking the roof of her mouth and flicking the back of her teeth. She made a noise, a cracked whimper from the back of her throat. And he chased it. He chased the way it made him feel. Triumphant, hopeful, _needy_ for more. He nipped at her lips, so full and warm and inviting. He kissed every inch of them, from one corner to the other, sucking on her lips and scraping his teeth over them, his tongue soothing the sting away.

Their noses bumped, rubbing together, and her feet stumbled as they backed up. His hands fell, sweeping under her thighs and lifting her until she was seated on the counter. A few inches higher than him now, his head tipped back with the pressure of her kisses, one of her legs tying itself around his waist, drawing him in close. Her nails scratched at his scalp and teased down his neck as she kissed from his mouth to his cheek and nibbled down the line of his jaw, back to his chin. He kissed the tip of her nose and ran a hand up her back, catching the hair at the nape of her neck and giving it a tug so he could bury his mouth at her neck, pressing sucking kisses all over her skin, wanting to leave a mark to remind him this was real, they were real, this was happening.

Her skin was supple, smelling faintly of her perfume; he wanted to bury his nose against her and just soak her in. The noises she made, soft and encouraging, _demanding_ as she tipped her head back, humming as his teeth ran over her collar bones. She dragged one hand down his chest, pressing her palm flat to his chest. He kissed up the front of her neck, nuzzling her as he went, and tipped her chin down so their lips met. He stared in her eyes then, sipping at her mouth, and she stared right back. When they finally stopped, they were forehead to forehead, breath meeting between parted lips.

"No more leaving," she told him. "This is home. You and me."

"You and me." He kissed her again, tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth, dragging his nose against hers. "This feels right. Right?"

She smiled, looking a little drunk on him, on them. "It feels amazing." She hooked her arm around his neck and nodded. "For the record, there will never be a time when I have to choose between you or someone else. But if, for some insane reason, there was… I'd pick you." She stared at her seriously. "I'll always pick you."

Damon swallowed tightly, and half-smiled. "I'm gonna Swayze you and say 'ditto.'"

She laughed, and she never looked more beautiful. Leaning back just a little, she said, "One more kiss, and then I have to finish dinner."

He leaned in, but it was far from one kiss. He didn't stop until the casserole in the oven burned, and he didn't care one bit. After tossing out their dinner, he called for Chinese take-out and then he took his favorite little witch to the couch and he made sure he thoroughly apologized for nearly leaving. Every once in a while he did dumb things, but he'd learned his lesson this time.

Bonnie was his home, and he was never going to leave her.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>It was three in the morning when Damon stumbled out to the kitchen, pajama pants slung low on his hips, the legs dragging on the floor. He scratched his stomach absently and yawned. After sharing their feelings and eating entirely too much Chinese food, they'd passed out earlier than usual, Mina laying over their feet. Despite being half asleep, he was in a good mood. All of his fears about things progressing between them were unfounded. She felt the same way and they were going to pursue a relationship. Slowly, because they didn't want to ruin anything, but slow was better than nothing. And if tonight had proven anything, then slow could still be fun. He was pretty sure he'd never get tired of kissing her. She was so responsive and eager and her mouth felt so good.<p>

He grinned, biting his lip just thinking about it. Yanking open the door to the fridge, he grabbed out the jug of milk and started guzzling it back. Bonnie hated it when he didn't use a glass, but Bonnie was sleeping, so…

He eyed the rest of the fridge for something to snack on, but the only option was leftover chicken fried rice. Debating it, he took another drag from the milk and then wondered if they had any of the homemade cookies Annette had made for them. He was half-way to the jar when he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye.

Tensing, he turned, and went completely still as he saw a transparent Caroline Forbes standing in the middle of his living room. She was frowning and squinting and searching around, her eyes never quite landing on anything. Dropping the milk jug onto the counter abruptly, he took a step toward her and waved his hand to see if she might notice him, but, despite moving her lips like she was talking and letting her eyes wander past him, it didn't look like she had any idea where she was or that he was there.

He had no idea what that meant, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Caroline disappeared as quickly as she appeared, fizzling away into nothing, leaving no sign that she was ever there.

He considered for a moment that it was a hallucination, or even a dream. But Bonnie had seen her once too, a long time ago now. He'd thought it was just guilt and missing them that had made her think she saw Caroline, now he wasn't so sure.

Swallowing thickly, he wiped a hand over his mouth, put the milk back in the fridge, and then shook his head. If he told Bonnie, she would immediately go for her grimoire; she'd throw herself into getting home. She'd go right back to burning herself out, and, on top of that, who knew what would happen to their relationship? They were just starting out, and they were both nervous about screwing it up. At least here they didn't have to worry about the expectations of everyone back home. Here, everything was easy, it was perfect. Their best chances of survival as a couple was to stay where they were.

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, and felt conflicted. He missed his brother, he missed their old life, in some ways. But there was a chance that, even seeing Caroline, it didn't mean anything. There was no guarantee they could get back. Caroline was barely more than a ghost, she couldn't speak or see them. And Bonnie had no magic, or, if she did, she couldn't access it without possibly hurting herself.

Damon gritted his teeth and shook his head.

No.

As far as he was concerned, Caroline was a figment of his imagination. She was never there. He left the kitchen and made his way back to bed, crawling in beside Bonnie.

Shifting at the sudden movement beside her, she blinked sleepy eyes at him, mumbling something incoherent.

"Shh, it's okay, go back to sleep," he said, kissing her forehead and wrapping an arm around her. Bonnie snuggled against his side and was out like a light.

He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, wondering if it was selfish or not, and then decided he didn't care. He wasn't perfect, he'd made plenty of mistakes before and this might just be another one, but he wouldn't apologize for it. He had Bonnie, and looking out for her was his main priority. It was just that simple.

[**Next**: Chapter Nine.]

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><p><strong>author's note<strong>: _this was so long i nearly split it into two chapters, but i really did want to get to the part where they become an actual couple. it's been growing for a while now and i didn't want to put it off any longer. it's one of my favorite chapters if only for the bathtub scene, to be honest. but i really love writing damon having epiphanies about his feelings and who he is. i like that he let's his guard down with bonnie until he starts putting her and their friendship ahead of his feelings. he wants to be selfless, he wants to think of her first, but bonnie is also her own person and she has every right to tell him he can't make those decisions on his own. he needs to talk to her rather than make assumptions or come to conclusions on his own. at the same time, now that they're together, they're still going to be testing the waters a bit with each other, seeing how they fit together this way in the next chapter, which is going to be a lot more tension filled and will, depending on the length, probably get this story pushed up to Mature._

_now, to the little hitch at the end, damon now knows that bonnie's vision of caroline was real, which presents a predicament. he's decided not to mention it, which proves two things - 1) he's still making decisions for both of them, which is classic damon, so he's not perfect and still has some growth to do, and 2) while aware that there may possibly be a way to go home, he's **choosing** not to pursue it, in part for bonnie's health but also because of their new found relationship, which says a LOT about how he's feeling. as you all know, however, they won't go back until fifteen years has passed, so while Caroline's popping up at random, nothing will come of it for a little while yet. on the bright side, i get to explore bamon's happy relationship for a while yet. :)_

_you were all asking for a kiss, so I hope it lived up to expectation. rest assured there will be many, many more to come. _

_thank you all so, so much for reading. please leave a review. i'd love to know what your favorite part was, or anything really. _

**- lee | fina**


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